Fate of a World
by Goodalwayswins98
Summary: Tristain faces trying times as Princess Henrietta's arranged marriage is cancelled. Albion has fallen to Reconquista. The fate of Tristain hangs in the balance. Maybe even Halkegenia's. Yet the unexplained happened... will this be salvation or doom?
1. Prologue: Trying Times

**Disclaimer: FoZ/ZnT belong to the departed Noboru Yamaguchi and whoever inherited the I.P.. Any real life organisation/person is merely being used in a fictional non-profit way. So here's the revised beginning of Fate of a World. Hope you enjoy the changes.**

 **Prologue: Trying Times**

 **Royal Palace of Tristania**

It had been trying times for Princess Henrietta, heiress to the throne of Tristain. Outside, the two moons of Halkegenia shone brightly in the night sky above the capital of Tristainia. Sitting in her royal bedroom and gazing out the window, she mused at the events of the past weeks and month.

She had lost so much. Her beloved Wales had fallen to a traitor's blade in front of her oldest and most loyal friends' eyes. To add more pain, the traitorous Jean-Jacques Wardes had escaped with her love letter. The ensuing scandal had cost her political wedding to Germania's heir apparent and left her kingdom defenceless now that the proposed alliance was gone.

Her regency council had been doing its best to keep their power on her, trying to usurp her authority. Henrietta suspected that some of them had been lining their pockets with the kingdom's taxes and treasury but couldn't take action yet. It also limited her options to defend Tristain. She had tried to gain more forces under her direct control… but she had very little faith in the loyalties of the many lords and their armies. She had few staunch allies in the courts of Tristania. Her regency council didn't allow her to openly raise her own armies because it was beneath under her status of queen. She suspected that many feared losing their power over her.

Despite that, Henrietta had a few allies. The de Vallières, the De Gramont as well as the Manticore knights still loyally stood by her side. The Griffin Guard were being investigated but nothing had proven that Wardes' treachery had compromised their integrity.

Even if she doubted that Albert III of Germania would respect her kingdom's independence, Henrietta couldn't help but fear for her people's safety. At least the Germanians would have defended Tristain from their enemies. Albion had fallen to a revolutionary group called Reconquista who wanted to conquer the rest of Halkeginia. Their claws were being sharpened and the princess knew in her heart that their next pray was her small kingdom.

Albion and Wales were gone. The White Country had been Tristain's oldest ally, her Royal Navy's mighty airships and well trained armies protecting the small kingdom. Now, Albion's guns were in the hands of hostile leaders intent on conquest.

In the darkness of her bedroom, Princess Henrietta sighed, praying to Brimir for guidance in troubled times. As she finished her prayers, a hard knock resounded in her dark room.

"Your highness!"

Henrietta recognized the voice. It was Agnes, her faithful captain of the Musketeer force that served as her bodyguards.

 **Tristain Academy of Magic**

It had been trying times for Louise Françoise Le Blanc de la Vallière and her familiar Hiraga Saito. They had gone through many adventures since the beginning of the school year and, despite some initial difficulties, struck up a relationship of sorts.

"Not too cold Louise?"

A pink haired girl lying in her four poster bed suddenly blushed.

"N-Not at all," Louise defended. In truth, she was rather cold but was too prideful to admit it.

"You sure about that?" Saito teased from his small mattress on the floor, "Cause you don't sound like it."

Louise scoffed and turned her head over.

"Stupid familiar," she muttered into her pillow before drifting.

"Are you sure you don't want a goodnight kiss?" said familiar asked cheekily. The pinkette felt her face getting warmer before sighing in ''annoyance''.

''I am a generous master and you have been a good dog lately," Louise replied, trying to have some authority in her voice but failing miserably. The sound of someone throwing off his bed sheets and standing up filled her ears. Turning over, she saw Saito's familiar silhouette leaning over her. She felt his warm lips on her left cheek.

''I might be a bit cold Saito." she relented, "I'll let you sleep with me tonight."

She saw a massive smile appear on his face.

"It would be my pleasure," her familiar answered as he slid into her bed next to her.

"You don't have so close you know?" Louise pouted as she turned over on her side. She heard a faint laugh before it turned to light snoring. Very soon, the young mage felt into a blissful sleep with dreams of past joys.

 **Flashbacks**

Louise sighed another time in frustration. She had finally succeeded her first spell and summoned a familiar. Unfortunately, said familiar was a rowdy commoner boy dressed in strange clothes with black hair and blue eyes. Said familiar was also yelling in some unknown language and her head was starting to ring. He also refused to obey her orders to wash her clothes.

Remembering a spell she had learned in first year, Louise picked her wand that lay on a nearby table.

"Let's see... Ansul, bel, an. Comply to my order by silence!" she ordered, her wand pointed at the angry boy. She could feel the power flowing through her... before an explosion knocked back her familiar and scorched the clothes he was holding for her.

"What the hell's your problem lady?!"

Her eyes widened in surprise as he picked himself up.

"I just understood you!" she squeaked. The boy's jaw dropped while his blue eyes widened in shock.

"So did I!" he exclaimed before his expression became more serious. "WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!" He raised his left hand and pointed to the runes on it.

Louise flinched a bit. While her familiar wasn't physically imposing despite being taller, his raised voice still made her hair stand on end. She took a deep breath and mustered a bit of courage.

"I am Louise Françoise Le Blanc de la Vallière! Daughter of Duke Centurion and Duchess Karin de la Vallière!" she declared proudly, hoping that she could had enough steel in her voice to silence him, "I have summoned you to be my Familiar!"

"Alright Louise, I'm Hiraga Saito, call me Saito," Saito introduced himself as he dusted himself off, "Why did you choose me to be your slave?!"

Louise glared at this commoner's arrogance. He had the gall to talk back.

"Slave?! You are a familiar!"

Saito glared back at her.

"Alright so what's the difference then?" he asked, anger still evident in his tone.

"W-well, a familiar has to obey everything his master demands of him." Louise embarrassedly spluttered out, "In exchange, the master has to teach discipline and care for the familiar."

"Sounds like slavery to me," he retorted dryly, "Now send me back to where I was. _Now_."

Saito couldn't help but feel that some crazy cult had kidnapped him and were trying to brainwash him into being a slave.

"There's no way I can do that," Louise replied smugly, "There's no way to send a familiar back and you're bound to me by those runes."

"Excuse me, but that's illegal in Japan!"

"Ja-pan?"

"Yeah, we're in Japan... right?" Saito asked hesitantly as he looked out the window before blanching at the sight of two moons, one blue and one pink. Louise pounced on his silence.

"I don't know what kingdom you're talking about, but we're in Tristain, the blessed realm of Water, on the continent of Halkeginia. To be more precise, we're in the Tristain Academy of Magic."

Saito got out of his daze.

"Magic?! There's no such thing as magic where I come from!"

Louise hissed.

"How do you expect me to believe that?! Magic is given to nobles like me by Brimir the Blessed Founder to lead our people."

Saito covered his face with his hand, exasperation all over his face.

"Couldn't you just use magic to send me back home?" he suggested, annoyance clear in his voice.

"Th-that's impossible! It has _never_ been done before!"

Saito's eyes widened.

"You must be kidding me," he groaned, "I have other things to do than this."

Louise sighed in annoyance.

"Why couldn't I get something like a dragon, a manticore or griffon?!" she ranted with angry tears in her eyes, "I just had to get a stupid dog of commoner who doesn't listen to me!"

"Well excuse me," Saito retorted sarcastically, "I didn't ask to be chosen by some lame mage with zero talent. Is it really my fault you couldn't get anything better?! I didn't-"

An angry wail interrupted his rant. Louise had dropped to her knees and was shaking, her face covered by her pink bangs

"EVEN MY FAMILIAR DOESN'T RESPECT ME!" Louise screeched, tears following from her pink eyes, "I'M JUST A STUPID ZERO!"

Saito's ears were ringing as he didn't plug them quickly enough. He couldn't help but flinch at her outburst.

"Wha-"

Before he could continue, Louise had become a blubbering mess of a girl.

"Zero magic, zero talent, zero body, zero familiar- waaahh"

' _What is she talking about?'_

Taking a glance at her, Saito noticed that she was rather petite and was on the small end chest wise. If he remembered anything from school was that girls were easily distressed about their bodies for being too small or too big for them. In this case, Louise appeared to be firmly in the ''too small' category. She was rather adorable though with what appeared to be natural pink hair and eyes.

 _'Now's not the time to be thinking about picking up cute girls Saito! Still...'_

"Hey... hey," he whispered softly, trying to grab the sobbing pinkette's attention. He felt rather awkward. Scratching the back of his head and clearing his throat, he tried again.

"Louise?" he asked hesitantly.

"What?!" she snapped angrily.

"I'm-uh sorry about blowing up on you like that." Saito apologized politely before nervously attempting humour. "It's been a difficult day."

The crying seemed to have died down and Saito hesitantly rubbed the back of his head before nervously chuckling and pressing on.

"Well, you know, it's not every day a guy gets summoned to another world by a girl to be her familiar you know?" he joked, hoping that it would calm Louise down.

"Idiot dog," she muttered as she stopped crying and wiped her face, the faint glimmer of a smile appearing on her face.

* * *

Louise was scowling as she walked down an empty hallway with Saito behind her. Her tiny fists were curled up while she stomped and cursed under her breath. Her classmates had again humiliated her and her lack of abilities in Mrs. Chevreuse's class. She was blinking back tears and doing her best to keep her head up.

Behind her, Saito was trying to figure out what to do. The past few weeks had been rather hectic for him. He managed to understand more about this strange new world called Halkegenia but missed his world's creature comforts. The familiar also was also starting to understand what made Louise tick. She was a rather bad mage who was only able to make explosions. He had to admit that they were impressive and he pitied anyone on the receiving end of one.

Unfortunately, she was being bullied for it on a regular basis for it as he found out. Her short temper and pride made rather hard for him to get closer to her. She usually rebuked his attempts to comfort her and he certainly didn't want to be on the receiving end of a burst of accidental magic or a slap. Still, the familiar didn't like bullying and couldn't let her go on like this.

Taking a sharp breath, Saito decided to act.

Louise was still scowling and cursing Kirche under her breath when she felt a pair of arms wrap around her. Flushing bright red, she turned her head.

"Wh-wha-what are you doing?!" she stammered angrily at Saito, "Wh-what if someone sees us dog?!"

The boy sighed gently.

"I thought you could use a hug."

The pinkette was flabbergasted. Her commoner familiar had dared to touch her, a noble!

"Un-unhand me this instant dd-dog!" she ordered, stumbling over her words. Louise felt Saito's arms pull away from her.

"If you say so," the familiar said flatly. Louise huffed before stalking off to the library, Saito in tow.

That small twitch of her lips wasn't a smile trying to form.

* * *

"S-saito... What are you doing?" Louise asked, blushing red. In front of her, there was a rather big cooking pot over a warm fire. Steam rose from it in thick white clouds. The water splashed around as her familiar moved closer to the side, a towel on his head.

"This is how we bathe in my homeland," Saito calmly explained, "I'm trying to relax right now."

The pinkette was trying to tear her eyes away from her naked familiar's body without much success.

"How did you find me by the way?" he asked, his arms leaning over the side of the pot.

"W-well, that maid, Siesta said that you were doing something out here," Louise spluttered, "And I was waiting for you to come back."

"Oh, ok."

Blushing furiously, the pinkette tried to stammer out a question.

''Do-does it feel good?" she murmured, too embarrassed to look at Saito's eyes.

"Huh? I didn't really hear what you just said Louise."

"Th-the bath, does it feel good?" she asked, this time with more assurance.

"Yeah," Saito shrugged as he moved back into a more comfortable position.

"Do people bathe with each other in your world?" she shyly asked

"Eu-eum well, we do with our family, friends and lovers" he stammered back, not expecting the conversation to go this way, "It's a way for us to have fun together."

Louise was trying to say something but failed.

"CanIcomeinwithyou?"

"Wha-?"

Before Saito could finish his question, Louise drew in a sharp breath.

"Y-you said that your people bathed together if they liked each other r-right?" the pinkette asked nervously, "W-well I like my familiar when he's behaving properly. So can I come in with you?"

The familiar's jaw dropped.

 _'No way, no way, no way this is happening_ ,' Saito thought rapidly, trying to contain his blushing.

"We-well if you want to, you can come in."

The teenager closed his eyes, not believing what she asked.

 _'As if that- WHA?!'_

Saito's train of thought was interrupted by the sound of Louise's cloak and heavy metal button falling to the ground. He opened his eyes and gasped as he saw the pinkette undoing her skirt.

"What are you doing?!" he almost yelled, trying to hide his surprise.

"Id-diot," she whispered softly as she removed her shirt,"My clothes'll get wet if I got in."

"Euh well euh."

Before Saito could say anything else, he heard splashing as Louise climbed into the pot.

"For something that a commoner uses, it's more pleasant than I thought it would be." the girl scoffed as she sat down next to Saito.

"S-so how was your day Louise?"

"Hmmph! Such indiscretion from a familiar! But if you must know, it was a good day."

"Oh how come?"

She was most not enjoying the warm water and company of her familiar.

* * *

"G-GET OUT!" Louise screeched, her face matching her hair. Saito quickly bolted from the room. After a few moments, Louise burst out in tears and jumped face first on her bed.

"Why me?!" she lamented through her sobs. The pinkette had unfortunately ingested a love potion that caused her to act rather amorously towards her familiar. With her luck, she remembered every single thing she said while under its effects. And did.

"Urgh why?!" she wailed into her pillow, remembering when she tried to seduce Saito in her sleeping clothes. It was by far the most embarrassing moment of her life. She cursed her luck, Guiche and Montmorency for getting her into her predicament. Hitting her mattress a few more times, she growled angrily.

She hoped that her parents wouldn't hear about how she acted with her familiar. She shuddered at the thought. A noblewoman acting so… so depraved. She also wondered how Saito took it. If anything, he acted properly, refusing to take advantage of her magically induced attraction towards him.

It was magically induced right? Louise wasn't attracted to the strange boy that was her familiar. It wasn't because he was kind, friendly and respectful towards her that she appreciated his company. After all, Saito was a bit dense at moments and lazy.

No she was certainly not attracted to him and his big blue eyes and messy black hair.

A knock on her door caught her attention. Wiping her tears and putting the most serious look she could, Louise walked up towards the door.

"You ok Louise?" a familiar voice rang out, causing the pinkette to freeze up a bit.

"Of course I am you idiot!" she snapped, trying to sound aloof and failing a bit.

"Sooo can I come in?" Saito asked tentatively.

"Of course you can!"

The boy looked rather flustered as he entered and sat down on a chair.

"Listen, euh," he stammered embarrassed, rubbing the back of his head, "Let's just not talk about that again ok?"

"Of course! Do you really think that a proper noble like me would want to remember such an humiliating moment?!" she ranted while blushing, "It is a blight on my honor that must be erased!"

Saito merely blinked at her.

"Sure, it's cool Louise," he finally said flatly, "You don't need to make such a fuss about it."

"What?"

It stopped her ranting.

"It wasn't really your fault. I mean anyone could have accidentally drank that potion," Saito continued.

"Y-yes."

* * *

Louise was now dreaming of when Saito saved her from the treasonous Wardes. He had been so dashing with Derflinger in his hands as he fought the traitorous count and he saved her from the burning church. She was just about the reach in her dreams when he first kissed her when she was jolted from her peaceful slumber by shaking and the sound of objects crashing.

"SAITO!" she screeched as she tried to push him. Much to her surprise, she realized that he wasn't next to her. She heard light groaning coming from the floor instead followed by alarmed cries.

"Louise! We have to get out _now_!" he shouted, picking himself from the ground, "I think it's an earthquake!"

"E-earthquake?!"

Saito meanwhile had dashed to Louise's dresser and tossed her one of her shirts.

"Put that on quickly," he barked as he put on his windbreaker and slipped into his running shoes. He grabbed Derflinger who protested at being awakened at this hour.

Wha-what?" she stammered, still trying to understand what her familiar was telling her.

"Just do it! Earthquakes happen alot in my country so trust me on this!"

Louise put on her shirt but before she could button it, her familiar scooped her up.

"Wha-what are you doing you idiot?! Put me down!"

"It'll be faster this way!" Saito replied as he ran of Louise's room carrying the pinkette in his hands. Dashing down the hallways, the duo saw doors open with the other academy students haphazardly stumbling out of the rooms in confusion with their familiar in tow. Many were trying to understand what had just happened.

"Everyone out! The ground might shake again! We have to get out in case the tower collapses!" he shouted with many students staring at him in surprise.

"What is this commoner talking about?" one of the students grumbled as he lazily walked out of his room, looking at the running familiar, "Doesn't he know that the Academy has been reinforced magically?"

After a few moments of running, Saito and Louise finally made it outside.

"Saito!" Louise whined as he put her on the ground, "That wasn't necessary!"

The boy glared at her.

"I was afraid that the ground might shake again and that the tower would collapse on us."

Louise sighed, annoyance clear across her face. Her arms were crossed.

"The Academy's buildings are reinforced by the best Earth Mages in Tristain. Nothing would have happened to us you idiot."

"Better safe than sorry if you ask me." Saito answered dryly.

"We should get back to my room," the mage ordered imperiously before taking a warmer tone of voice, "Thank you for worrying though," she whispered, lightly blushing.

"No problems," Saito said with a smile, "That's what I'm here for Louise."

As they walked back, they noticed some of the teachers and Old Osmond rushing outside with a sense of urgency.

"Louise! Saito!" Professor Colbert shouted as he ran towards them, "What are you doing outside?"

"Well professor Colbert, in my home country, earthquakes happen alot and so we're trained to always run outside to avoid having a building collapse on us," Saito answered, "Though Louise explained to me that the Academy is magically reinforced."

The older man smiles and nods.

"Your people are wise to do that."

"Are the wards compromised?" Louise asked with worry but Colbert shook his head.

"No, but Madam Chevreuse saw a strange structure appear not far from here as the ground shook," he answered, "A large gate standing in a nearby field."

" _What_?" Saito asked in surprise.

"We've already sent a message to the Palace reporting what just happened." Colbert explained, "You two get back to your room now."

* * *

That same morning, a city awakened by an earthquake was further shocked. A crowd had amassed in one of its parks, surprised by an unusual sight. A large structure, nearly 20 feet in height and twice as wide. No one had dared ventured towards it though, weary of the black void in between its supports. Policemen soon came to lock off the area and established a security perimeter, but by then pictures and videos were already online.

It would be trying times for National Defense Headquarters in Ottawa. In the early hours of that morning, January 24th, a small tremor had shook Montreal. However, what caused the most alarm was the appearance of a gate-like structure in one of the city's parks.

* * *

Men observing the inside of the gate saw only pitch darkness. The local emergency services as well as the 34 Canadian Brigade Group had been placed on full alert after the earthquake hit. Calls had also been placed to the United States, warning them about any possible follow quakes as well as the appearance of the structure. The science departments of Montreal's four universities had been mustered as well, with many of their top experts contacting their colleagues elsewhere in the world, trying to comprehend what had just happened.

Reporters around the world booked tickets to cover the event while social media flared to life, bringing word of what had happened to the rest of the world.

Little did anyone know that History was soon being written.


	2. Chapter 1: First Contact

**Author's note: Thank you for the positive reviews everyone. For anyone seeking info on the FoZ LN material, google this: " ZnT 'Back to Basics' #6: (Mostly) LN Canon Discussion." It should lead you to the correct Space Battles thread. You will be able to find a summary of all 22 volumes of FoZ as well as the ones for the Tabitha and Young Karin/Karen/Karine/Karina (Louise's mom) spin-offs. Let's just the apple doesn't fall far from the tree for Mother and Daughter in terms of personnality.**

 **Many thanks to Trainalf for co-writing/beta-reading this fic.**

 **Disclaimer: FoZ/ZnT belong to the departed Noboru Yamaguchi and whoever inherited the I.P.. Any real life organisation/person is merely being used in a fictional non-profit way.**

 **Hope you enjoy this chapter! Please read and review.**

 **Revised on Oct. 08 2018.**

 **Chapter one: First Contact**

 **Royal Palace Tristainia**

"I beg of you, your Highness, to reconsider!" desperately pleaded Cardinal Mazarin, "This is absolute folly! Who knows what Brimir-forsakened beings have made their homes inside?"

Sitting around a large and ornate table, various nobles stared incredulously at Princess Henrietta who sat at the head of the table. Standing by the door, Agnes was waiting impatiently to see how this meeting would end.

"Your Highness, it is too dangerous for you to go there," worriedly insisted First Minister Delage, "We do not know what this structure bears inside its depths. Our brightest mages have yet to understand its nature."

Despite these protests, Princess Henrietta defiantly looked at her regency council.

"I will go to the Academy and take this situation into my hands," she insisted.

"I do not think you should risk yourself so brazenly," her mother added in, "You are far too young and inexperienced for such a task."

"Archduchess Marianne, it is through times of crisis that leaders are made," Henrietta replied as she stood up from her throne, "In such times, I will not cower in the safety of my palace as one of Tristain's greatest jewels is threatened. My decision is final."

Cardinal Mazarin's eyebrows shot up in alarm as he saw the heiress walk towards the door.

"Your Highness! Your recklessness has already endangered Tristain. Please do not let it get the better of you!"

"Please listen to our council your Highness," Chief Justice Richemont pleaded. The portly old man sweated nervously. "Do not risk yourself needlessly!"

"Agnes, please ready the Musketeers," Henrietta ordered, ignoring the man, "We are to leave as soon as we can to the Academy. Send them word for my arrival."

"Yes your Highness!" the captain answered with a respectful bow.

* * *

"For once, it seems that your instincts were right," Louise muttered. Saito and her were standing inside her room's doorway. Sun filtered through the broken window and reflected off the shattered lying on the nearby floor. The chairs and table had been flipped over while various little trinkets fell on the ground. The two could also other students complaining in the hallways about damaged belongings.

"Yeah, I get things right sometimes," Saito replied dryly.

"Thank you," Louise whispered kindly, "We could have been really hurt."

A familiar metallic sounding voice from her familiar's back caught their attention.

"Looks like you have a heart after all," Derf teased Louise who flushed slightly, "Good thinking there partner!"

"Stupid talking sword!"

Taking another glance around, Saito sighed.

"This is gonna be a pain to clean up," he groaned, "I think I'll go get Siesta and ask her if she can help."

Louise glared at him as she felt heat rise in her cheeks.

"Wh-why do you need her help?" she asked, flustered, "Cc-couldn't you do it yourself?"

"An extra pair of hands can't hurt," Saito shrugged nonchalantly before taking a more teasing tone and grinned, "Is Master jealous of something?"

He saw a vein pop in Louise's forehead and took a step back.

"I. AM. NOT. JEALOUS. YOU. STUPID. DOG." she snapped, glaring at Saito who was flinching a bit. The boy liked to tease the pinkette since she was adorable when flustered. She was however a strange mix of cute and intimidating when angered.

"You shouldn't have said that partner," Derf commented sarcastically, "You know how Pinkie is a bit insecure."

"Shut up sword!"

"I-I know Derf," Saito said through clenched teeth before turning his head to the room and back to Louise.

"W-well, it's not so bad," he stammered, hoping that she'd calm down a bit, "I-I think I can clean it myself."

A voice interrupted him.

"It's a good thing I was passing by then."

Turning back, Saito and Louise see a girl dressed in a black dress and a white apron. She was also carrying a broom and dustpan.

"What are you doing here Siesta?" Louise asked, having deflated a bit.

The maid smiled.

"I am relieved to see that you are doing well Miss Vallière," she said, "I was worried for you and Saito after the earthquake hit and Chef Marteau allowed to come and see if you were unharmed."

Louise nodded, a kind smile on her face.

"Thank you. Are any of the servants hurt?" she asked with worry. Louise cared for them as many did their tasks diligently for the nobles. She notices a frown appearing on Siesta's face.

"Unfortunately, old Madeleine fell and broke her hip," she reported sadly, "She's at the infirmary right now waiting for a Water Mage to help her."

"Oh."

"I can't stay for too long since Chef Marteau wants me to help him clean up the kitchen," Siesta said as she handed the broom to Saito, "But I brought this so that Saito could clean up your room Miss Vallière."

"Thank you Siesta," Louise said too sweetly, "I'll make sure that he won't shirk on his duties."

Saito sighed and rolled his eyes as he took the broom. Siesta did a quick bow before leaving.

' _So much for getting off easy.'_

He began picking up the broken glass while Louise looked at him smugly.

"That's what you get for teasing me too much dog," she teased back before realization hit her, "I think I won't let you sleep with me for the next eight nights."

Saito finished sweeping up broken glass.

"What will you do if you get cold at night again?" he chuckled.

"I'm sure the next nights won't be cold," she answered confidently, "Maybe I should have you sleep on straw as well."

Mischief was evident in her voice.

"You wouldn't dare!" Saito replied with mock horror, "Master is too kind for that!"

Louise smiled evilly before placing her hand on her chin.

"A bad dog doesn't deserve food either."

"Am I really that bad a dog?" he asked with fake hurt in his voice as he finished picking up a chair, "I mean the room's almost clean."

The pinkette walked into the room from she had been standing and made her way to Saito. She tugged on his windbreaker to pull him in for a kiss.

"Good dog," she said with a smile.

* * *

Colbert stood inside Old Osmond's office. The headmaster's office was surprisingly quite clean despite the earthquake. Probably the old mage had used his magic to clean up his books.

The smell of a pipe being smoked filled Colbert's nose. The old man was standing behind his desk, a grave expression on his face.

"What is the situation professor Colbert?" the old man sighed, knowing that it would be unpleasant to hear.

The younger man adjusted his glasses and began his report.

"Well a few of the maids and cooks have been injured with one being treated for her hip injury. Their quarters are damaged but some of the professors are already helping there," he stated, "Unfortunately, professor Poirier has a broken arm after one of his bed posts broke and fell on him. He's the worst one off. Two have minor concussions but everyone else injured has a few cuts and bruises."

"Thank the Founder," Osmond muttered, puffing out a small cloud of smoke, "What of our students?"

"Again, more fear than harm though a few are at the infirmary."

There was obvious sadness in Colbert's voice.

"Miss Von Zerbst has been hit by broken glass from her window and is being treated for cuts on her arm while Mr. de Gramont is recovering from a broken leg."

"And our buildings?"

"The library is a mess right now. Many shelves fell over but luckily none of the lamps fell on the books. As for the archives, the spells indicate that they are still intact with no damage sustained. Most of the secondary buildings are going to need repairs as well as well as one of the older passageways, headmaster."

A guilty smile appeared on Colbert's face.

"I was most fortunate that my workshop is mostly intact save for some damaged roof tiles."

Osmond nodded briefly.

"What of our classrooms?"

"Mostly broken windows and damaged furniture. Nothing that we can't repair though headmaster."

Osmond let out a sigh of relief. One less potential strain on the academy's budget.

"I have received word from the palace that her Majesty is coming here later today," the headmaster said, "Princess Henrietta is dispatching some of her personal troops to help us with repairs. The main road has been severely damaged."

Colbert nodded. He had seen the state of the roads and the grounds around the Academy. Large cracks had appeared, as if Earth Mages had fought a great duel on the nearby lands. Luckily, damage had been limited to the Academy with the nearby towns and villages having only felt a light shake.

"There's still the matter of that structure," Osmond said with curiosity, "Her Highness is coming here simply because of that with her guards and some of her troops."

"Madame Chevreuse has gone and tried to determine its nature but she hasn't found any reason. It appears to be a large tunnel," Colbert replied, "However, we have no idea where it leads. Any spells used to seek what is on the other side has been unsuccessful. They have been able to reveal that there is an exit besides this one but not where it is."

"I see." Osmond said as he stood and looked out the window of his office. He could see mages helping with repairs with their magic, "Is that everything Colbert?"

Colbert nodded.

"Yes Headmaster."

Later that day, the Academy's students and staff were gathered at the entrance. Some had visible injuries on them with bandages, crutches and slings on them. Familiar banners were flying as Princess Henrietta's royal carriage arrived accompanied by her Musketeers. In the skies above, Griffon and Manticore Knights were preparing to land. Some Tristanian troops had accompanied her as well.

"This whole thing must have shaken up the princess," Saito remarked. He was standing next to Louise who was watching the arrival with excitement and worry.

"The princess shouldn't be here," she said, "It's too dangerous for her."

Saito nodded as he saw Agnes get off her horse besides the royal carriage. The Musketeer captain walked up next to the door of the carriage. Opening the door, it revealed the princess. She bore a concerned expression on her face as she disembarked. Clearing her throat, the royal addressed the crowd who bowed at her arrival.

"Students of Tristain Academy," she declared passionately, "I have come from the capital to oversee this whole crisis. My guards and personal troops will assist in anyway they can."

She turned her head towards Old Osmond.

"Old Osmond, Please take me to your office where we may discuss about this whole crisis."

* * *

A lone man stood in the tunnel, his torch defiantly standing against the darkness.

"Why did I accept this again?" the scout muttered as he walked inside the tunnel.

' _Oh right… the money. Think of the money Claude!'_

The damned nobles were too afraid to risk themselves and had promised a reward and a title to the man brave enough to go in and come back alive. The scout had stepped forward. He had walked long enough that he lost track of time. He was given a magical torch and he hoped it would be enough.

Muttering a single prayer to Brimir, he pressed on into the abyss.

The scout remembered how his mission came to be.

 **Flashback**

Claude was sleeping peacefully in his tent, having arrived with the small Tristainian Royal Army after a portal had appeared near the Academy. He was one of the army's finest scouts.

He was sudden awakened by someone shaking him. Claude opened his eyes, barely seeing any light except for a weak candle. Squinting, he recognized the person holding the candle. It was the green clothed Agnes de Milan, Captain of the Royal Musketeers corps. Another hooded figure stood next to her.

"You are awake," she stated seriously.

He nodded as he got out of bed.

"Yes, what is happening? Why are you in my tent?" the scout asked, confused and annoyed.

"It is concerning your skills as a scout," the captain said seriously, "Are you not the finest scout in Tristain?"

The man puffed his chest and straightened his back.

"You'll find no finer one in all of Tristain," he boasted proudly before realizing something wasn't quite right.

"Very well then," the hooded figure said in a feminine, regal tone before dropping her hood. Claude's jaw dropped.

"Y-your Highness!" he almost shouted but quickly controlled his voice as Agnes glared at him. Recomposing himself, Claude dropped to a knee and bowed before Princess Henrietta.

"I have need of your help," the princess said in a hushed voice.

"Anything your Highness."

The young woman had an uneasily look on her face as she spoke.

"The task I ask of you is very dangerous," she said seriously, every word heavy with burden, "I need you to enter that portal."

The scout's eyes widened but he remained silent.

"I understand that such a task is dangerous and you may refuse but I promise you great rewards for aiding us," Henrietta said, compassion in her voice, "But the Crown will aid your family should you not return. You have my word that you will never fear hunger again."

Claude's mind was split. Would the Princess truly honor her word? From her tone of voice, the young woman appeared to be truthful and honest.

"Very well your Highness," he bowed his head as Agnes produced a torch.

"Thank you," Henrietta said as she chanted a spell that lit up the torch, "Carry this with you. I have enchanted it so it will stay lit until you drop it. May Brimir protect you."

* * *

Louise was brushing her long pink hair while Saito was putting away her clothes. Outside, Halkeginia's two moons were slowly rising. Everyone had gone back to their quarters early, supper having been shortened because of the crisis.

"Say Louise?" Saito asked as he sat down on her bed.

"Yes?"

"What do you think's inside that building?"

Louise hesitated.

"I don't really know," she answered lamely, "I've never heard of anything like that in my classes or in my stories. Why?"

Saito's face took on a look of nostalgia and he sighed as he looked at the moons.

"Well, back on Earth, alot of people wrote these stories about magical portals appearing out of nowhere and adventurers going through them to discover new worlds."

Louise noted her familiar's sad look as he spoke.

"I-I order you to stop talking!" she ordered suddenly, her face slightly red.

"Wha-what did I say?" he stammered.

"A master is supposed to take care of her familiar!" she snapped, "So no talking about things that make you sad."

"Wha-"

' _Oh,'_ Saito realized that he had been talking about his old life. The pinkette grew to dislike seeing him sad about Japan and always did her best to cheer him in her own little way.

"Thanks Louise but I'll be fine," he said.

"Promise?" she asked in an adorable voice.

"Promise," he replied, "Can I still tell the stories I heard though?"

Louise hesitated. Part of her was curious yet part of her still didn't like the idea of making Saito anymore nostalgic.

"Promise you won't get too sad?"

Saito smiled and nodded.

"I'll be fine," he said, "There was this TV show-"

"Was that the plays with the moving pictures?"

"Yes, it was," Saito answered with a smile, "It was about this portal called a Stargate that one of the countries of my world found on their lands. They kept it secret from the rest of our world but they found out that it lead to other worlds where humans lived. They used it to go fight evil… demons that possessed people and passed off as gods to enslave them. It was called "Stargate SG-1". "

Louise was awed.

"Were they knights?"

"I don't think they'd call themselves knights but they acted like proper ones, freeing the people from evil."

Before Saito could continue, knocking was heard on their door.

"Who is it?" he asked, glancing at the entrance.

Louise threw a knowing glance and made her way to the door and opened it. A hooded figure quickly shoved her out of the way before closing the door. Throwing down her hood, Henrietta revealed herself and hugged her best friend.

"Louise-Françoise, it is always a pleasure to see you," she said softly as she released the shorter girl.

"The pleasure is all mine your Highness," Louise said, bowing slightly. Saito bowed as well before greeting her.

"Your Highness."

Louise then guided her to a chair.

"Your Highness, have you been doing well lately?" the pinkette asked with a hint of worry as her friend sat down. She noticed that Henrietta had dark circles whiler her blue eyes looked faded and lacked their usual life.

The princess nodded.

"I'm afraid these times have been demanding on me," she said, "I have been doing my best to overcome my grief for Prince Wales but it is tiring."

"Oh your Highness, I didn't mean to-"

"It is alright Louise-Françoise. I am quite happy to be with you and Saito tonight."

Saito and Louise smiled before the mage answered.

"It's our pleasure."

"How are things with that structure over there?" Saito asked, curiosity in his voice.

"Unfortunately, the professors aren't able to understand what caused it," Henrietta explained, "We've contacted some researchers from the Oriz Magic Academy."

Louise suddenly blanched before flopping on her bed. She began to rub her left cheek subconsciously.

"T-t-tell me she isn't coming. P-please", she begged.

Saito looked at Louise in confusion.

"Who are you talking about?"

The pinkette suddenly glared at Saito.

"E-e-eleonore..."

The Tokyo teen didn't seem to understand who she was talking about.

"Eh?"

"You idiot! My big sister! The one I told you was scary," she shouted, irritation having replaced her fear for a moment. She stood back up, looking rather intimidating despite her small size.

"I don't remember you mentioning he-"

Saito stopped as he noticed her death glare and the popping vein on her forehead.

"Oh… r-r-right her! Your scary big sister. The one sister that you're afraid of. Her. Not Cattleya the nice one," he stammered. Louise went back to her bed, shoulders slumping.

"If it's any consolation Louise-Françoise," Henrietta said with a mix of warmth and mischief in her voice, "I can protect you from her."

"So that means she'll come?" the pinkette said dejectedly, "Just what I needed."

"It'll be alright since I'm here Louise," Saito said as he went to her and gave her a quick peck on the lips, causing her to stammer and blush. Henrietta smiled at this before talking again.

"We've also sent a scout from the army inside to see if he could find anything."

"Has he returned your Highness?" Louise asked, somewhat less flushed. Saito looked horrified on the other hand.

"You've just sent someone to his death?!" he exclaimed, his voice rising, "Who knows what kind of monsters are inside that thing."

"Saito! You will not address her Highness with that tone you dog!" Louise snapped before smacking him behind the head.

"What was that for?!"

Henrietta shook her head.

"We asked for volunteers and promised a reward for their help." she argued, "He chose to go through and our best mages gave him an enchanted torch to help him in the darkness."

Saito let out a snort.

"I still don't think it's a good idea," he said dryly, "Risking someone's life like that."

Henrietta lowered her eyes.

"It was what was necessary," she said quietly, "I saw no other alternative."

* * *

Cold. That was the first thought that came to the scout. After what seemed to be hours of walking, the air grew colder and colder. Claude could feel it gnawing at his bones so Brimir-damned cold it was!

The howls of wind echoed through the dark tunnel. They grew louder as the scout walked closer and closer to a light at the end of the tunnel. White mist formed out of his mouth with breath he took. The cold was slowly weakening him but he pressed on. The light drew ever closer yet each step closer was harder to take.

Claude could hear distant sounds that weren't wind coming from the light. Some of them sounded vaguely like voices…

The sound of engines filled the ears of the men assembled before the Gate that had appeared in Montréal's Jeanne Mance park. SPVM (Service de Police de la Ville de Montréal/Montreal Police Service) police officers dressed in their dark blue uniforms had set up a perimeter around the park. Police cruisers blocked nearby streets while traffic and public transportation was been redirected around with much effort.

A throng of reporters was standing at one of the checkpoints, trying to get in or trying to get information. Flanked by two officers, the brown haired spokesperson of the SPVM arrived at the checkpoint in his winter uniform. Agent Robert Dorais cleared his throat as he looked at the crowd.

"Excuse me!" asked one the reporters, his mic marked with the logo of TVA Nouvelles, "Can you tell us anything about the structure that appeared here!"

"We are currently waiting for many of the experts to arrive," Dorais explained with a firm tone, "They will bring equipment and teams to analyze what this structure is exactly."

The flash of camera flickered as a reporter from La Presse took a picture of him.

"Sir, what are the security measures being in place to protect our citizens?" another asked hurriedly.

"Mayor Plante is currently meeting with Chief Prud'homme and is in contact with Prime Minister Trudeau," he answered, "They are currently working to sort out this crisis."

"Has anything unusual been reported from that structure?"

"The structure appears to be harmless for the time being. No activity has been reported from it."

A group of vans had arrived at the Jeanne Mance park escorted by policemen. Some of them were from the _Groupe tactique d'intervention_. These heavily armed policemen carried their full gear including their FN P90 submachine guns. The sound of howling winds mixed with the sound of the engines shutting and passengers disembarking. They began unloading various equipment from the vehicles. Around the park, various science teams had already arrived from the four universities in Montreal.

One of them was wrapped in a warm blue coat, scarf and toque. A mug of coffee was steaming his hands as he took a sip. As he looked at the mysterious gate-like structure, Professor Leroy called out orders to his team.

"I want that infrared sensor set up over there!" he said pointing to a patch of snow, "What are the readings on the Geiger counter?"

One of assistants looked up from his scanner.

"Radiation levels normal!"

Another one walked up to him, holding a clipboard.

"M. Leroy, the geology department has just called," she said, "They have noted no usual seismic activity since last night and their team should be here soon."

Another professor walked up to him and shook his gloved hand.

"Arthur! I'm happy to see you here!"

"The feeling is mutual Benjamin," Leroy said warmly, greeting his friend, Professor Benjamin Richer, "What has your team found so far?"

"My team was busy scanning for unusual chemical emanations," the chemist said, "There's air inside that tunnel with exactly the same composition as ours. According to scans, it's cleaner than ours!"

"Looks like there's no global warming inside," Leroy chuckled.

"Indeed, I heard that Polytechnique is sending Delmonte with a team," Benjamin said, "They're considering using a drone to scan the inside of the tun-"

Richer was interrupted by a man running up to them.

"Sir! We've got a reading on the the infrared sensors! Looks like the size of a man!" he said, out of breath, "It's getting closer to us!"

The police officer that stood next to Leroy quickly grabbed his radio and relayed the urgent message. Other policemen began to converge near the entrance, their weapons drawn.

* * *

Claude painfully took in another breath as he walked forwards toward the light at the end of the tunnel. His arms and legs were slowly growing numb as he struggled with each step, the cold biting into him. Brimir must have smiled upon him as Claude somehow found the strength to move closer and closer to the light. He soon realized it was an exit and looked out.

He could see the faint outline of a tall pillar with a winged figure covered in snow. Behind it were blue skies, leafless trees and ground that rose into a small hill. He suddenly heard shouting that mixed with the sounds of howling winds. The scout saw dark silhouettes moving around the exit, pointing strange box like things at him.

What happened next surprised him.

"Stop and identify yourself! Raise your hands in the air!"

A loud voice that seemed to be carried by magic called to him in Tristainian before changing to Albionian.

' _How is this possible?'_ Claude thought as he struggled to raise his hands above his head and stumbled forward out the tunnel and into the bright light, ' _Are there mages here?'_

Complying was the best choice. Commoners were usually no match for mages and Claude didn't know if these mages were even more powerful than those in Halkegenia. Maybe they would be merciful and not let him freeze to death.

His legs gave out and he soon found himself face down in snow. The snow's cold pierced his skin like a thousand arrows. He suddenly felt someone grabbing him by the back of his clothes and rolled him over.

Before Claude lost consciousness, he saw a man in dark blue clothes and black armour with a strange helmet with a clear visor looking at him.

* * *

The unmistakable sound of an ambulance caught the attention of any bystanders. It was a normal occurrence in a great city like Montreal where almost 2 million people lived and worked everyday. What was unusual was that it was headed towards the cordoned off area around the Jeanne Mance park and entered it under heavy escort. A few moments later, it exited with a pair of police cars surrounding it. Darting through the packed and snow covered streets of the city, the convoy reached the Centre Hospitalier de l'Université de Montréal (CHUM) barely 15 minutes after it left the locked down sector. More police cars awaited them at the hospital with agents entering the hospital.

The doctors and nurses at the emergency room were shocked as a dark haired man dressed in primitive leather armour that looked like something of a history on the middle ages was brought out of the ambulance. Policemen surrounded the stretcher and the paramedics as they carried him into the hospital.

He was quickly diagnosed with frostbite and hypothermia. His entrance was not missed by the other patients, staff and visitors of the CHUM. Coupled with the ambulance earlier, social media roared to life about the man from the Gate.

* * *

Claude awoke in a strange white room. He felt slight numbness in his arms and legs. Checking quickly, he noticed that his clothes had been changed for a white gown of sorts while mysterious wires were attached to him. The Tristanian tug lightly and realized that they were too flimsy to be restrains. Letting out a groan, the scout looked around him.

"Where am I?" he muttered as he sat up and took in his surroundings. The room was extremely clean with one window. Claude saw that he was in a high tower that dwarfed other buildings around it. Light shone from strange white tiles on the ceiling while a beeping noise filled his ears. He looked to the source and saw a glass screen with lines, numbers and words on it, most certainly magical, as they were moving. The words were unfamiliar to him though they were written in the same script as Halkeginia.

This world's mages must truly be powerful. No structure in Halkegenia, even the blessed chapels of Romalia could compare to this tower. His eyes were wide with wonder.

"You are in a hospital in the city of Montréal," a voice suddenly said in perfect Tristanian, catching the scout's attention, "I suggest you do not attempt to escape. We have already confiscated your weapons and it would be most unwise for your health."

Looking over, he saw a dark haired, unassuming man. Dark glasses hid his eyes. He was dressed in a white shirt and black pants as well as a vest that matched the pants.

"W-who are you? C-city of Montréal?" he stammered, surprised at the man's sudden appearance. The man began writing on a pad and judging by his clothes, Claude presumed he was a noble. The clothing appeared to be of too high quality for a commoner.

"My name is of no importance. Montréal is in the nation of Canada on Earth," the man replied curtly, "Do you remember who you are and what happened to you before you collapsed in our city?"

"Why should I give you any answer?"

The man gave him a smile that sent shivers down his spine.

"Because you are stuck in a world that is not yours with injuries and we have been generous enough to heal you," he stated with a unnerving tone, "If you cooperate, we will help you return to your home."

The scout was indeed stuck and was silent.

"I will repeat my question again: Do you remember who you are and what happened to you before you collapsed in our city?"

Claude lowered his head before answering.

"I am Claude Dubois. I am a commoner and a scout in the Royal Tristanian Army. I was sent into a structure that appeared near the Tristain Academy of Magic on the orders of Princess Henrietta."

The man was taking notes of everything that Claude just said.

"I see. What can you tell me about this 'Tristain Academy of Magic' and Princess Henrietta?"

"The Academy is meant for nobles," he explained, "They teach almost all of the nobility in Tristain in the art of magic. As for the princess, she is to inherit the throne and become queen on her next birthday. She was also to marry Prince Albert III of Germania but the engagement was cancelled following a scandal with Prince Wales of Albion."

"I see. What marks the difference between the nobles and the commoners?"

This question surprised Claude. Did the classes in this world differ to their own?

"Magic is a gift that only the nobility have. It was given to them by our Founder Brimir in order to lead the commoners?"

"Interesting. What of Tristain's army?"

The scout had an uneasy look on his face.

"Tristain's Royal Army is… small and underequipped. Our navy's airships are old and few. We have long relied on our allies' strength to defend us against enemies. Princess Henrietta's marriage was to cement a military alliance with Germania to ensure our kingdom's safety."

The man wrote more notes.

"If you didn't come back from your expedition, would this army be mobilized?"

"No, our princess would not dare risk her personal troops," Claude explained nervously, hoping it wouldn't encourage the nobles from this world to lead their armies into Tristain. _"We do not seek a war."_

The man nodded, as if he had read the scout's mind, "Us neither. We merely seek to understand what's happening."

Claude blanched for a moment and hoped the man wasn't lying.

"I thank you for your cooperation M. Dubois," the dark haired said as he made his way to the door, "I must leave now."

"Wait! How long have I been here?"

The man took a look at some kind of bracelet on his wrist before answering.

"You've been here for two days already," he answered as he opened the door.

Glimpsing through the open door, the scout noticed various people in long white coats and blue clothes walking nearby. He couldn't help but feel uneasy at the meeting he just had. He also made out two black armoured men standing on each side of the door with the strange boxes he saw earlier.

As he closed the door, Agent John Harper of CSIS (Canadian Security Intelligence Service) was accosted by a blond man dressed in a light grey suit.

"I got all of that on video," the man said, with a clear accent, "According to Thomas, the lie detector showed that he told only the truth. Body language checks out too."

"The good news is that we don't to worry about outworldly invaders for the time being then," John replied as they began walking in the busy hallways of the CHUM, "I'll immediately phone Ottawa about this however. M. Trudeau will want to know what kind of situation we're facing right now. Despite what he said, there's an army with the potential to reach us."

"Can't ignore that." His companion agreed.

The Canadian agent quickly pulled his phone and dialed a special number. After a quick conversation, he hung up. His counterpart did the same thing, calling up his superior in Washington D.C..

"Want to get some coffee before we continue?" His C.I.A companion offered. "The other attachés should be here by the time we're done."

William nodded as they walked passed another pair of policemen.

"I have a feeling we'll be staying up late so any coffee is welcome," he said, "Our respective governments will want a debriefing on what we've just got so we've got our work cut out for us."

"Looks like we'll have to phone the History departments as well," John remarked, "This whole nobility thing sounds like something they'd understand."

* * *

Barely a few hours later, Prime Minister Trudeau had summoned his cabinet for an emergency meeting at his office in Ottawa. Their allies and partners wanted an update on the situation, but that could wait till their own government had a grasp on the situation. Now that their unexpected visitor had woken up, they could get one.

"What is the current situation in Montreal?" He asked, looking at two men in particular.

"According to M. Couillard and Mrs. Plante, the police forces around Montreal are on full alert and have expanded the security perimeter around the Gate. CSIS has interrogated the man that exited almost three days ago. There's an army with unknown intents that is mobilized on the other side and can cross at any moment," Minister Ralph Goodale said grimly. He was the Minister of Public Safety and Emergency Preparedness. Alarm was immediate of the gathered faces.

"As a response, we've mustered the 34 Canadian Brigade Group as well the 2nd Canadian Division to full alert," Minister of Defense Harjit Sajjan explained, "The reserve units in Montreal have already begun fortifying the area. Units nationwide have been raised to higher alert. I've received a call from Secretary of Defense Mattis stating that the US will be on our side no matter what happens."

"That's good news," Trudeau sighed, "M. Mattis is a good man to deal with but M. Trump is quite… difficult to work with at times."

"We've been talking to our allies in the Commonwealth too. They've affirmed support for us."

"Back to this gate and the threat beyond," Goodale spoke up "How strong is this army?"

"The man claims they are weak and have no intention of crossing over. We have no way to verify this though. If this army is outfitted like he is though...I don't think we'll have too large a problem." Minister Sajjan stated, "He was equipped with primitive leather armour and only a few old daggers. Ill-equipped for the weather, to say the least. There was also no firearm of any kind on him, or any sort of gear you'd expect on a military scout."

"From what I understood reading CSIS's briefing," Minister of Foreign Affairs Chrystia Freeland said, "Is that he claims to be from a country we have never heard of, a French speaking kingdom called Tristain, and that there's magic and a feudal system, apparently. They went on to say that their country doesn't want war."

Everyone was caught up on word 'magic' though, and the last part was lost on them.

"It's a shame that the man didn't specify what 'magic' is," Sajjan sighed, "We're in the dark on what that is and if it's a threat or not." Whatever it was, it was only in the hands of their society's elite, apparently.

"Assuming it's real." Trudeau remarked, "Judging by the pictures of his clothing and equipment that CSIS supplied us with, it could be mere superstition from a medieval civilization."

"So we think this guy is really medieval?" Freeland asked.

"We've consulted with various professors from all the History departments in Montreal," Goodale answered, "His armour and clothes are authentic to the time period. According to them, it would be similar to Europe in the late 1500's to early 1600's. Although he mentioned two other states called Germania and Albion. Both names date back as far as the Roman era according to our experts."

"I can understand what Germania could possibly be," the Foreign Minister said, "But I'm afraid I'm at a loss for Albion."

"According to the professors, it would theoretically be Great Britain," Goodale replied.

"So there's something like old Europe at the other end of that gate?" Sajjan deduced.

Trudeau had to ask the obvious: "Are we sure this is all true, though?"

"CSIS was working with the CIA when interrogating that man," Goodale replied, "They analyzed the footage and determined that what he said is true. The lie detector also confirmed that fact."

"Those can be fooled though." Freedale remarked.

"I doubt that a medieval person would know what a lie detector is," Sajjan said, leaning back in his seat.

"Well, he doesn't look like a foreign agent," Goodale said, "He looks more Western European than anything."

Trudeau stood up and looked out the window.

"Suppose this man is telling the truth," he said, "What are our options?"

"We can be skeptical on the other stuff, but the armed threat we need to treat seriously." The Defense Minister answered. Those weren't joking matters.

"Perhaps propose diplomatic channels to this Princess Henrietta?" Freeman suggested, "If he's telling the truth about her, we could easily secure talks."

"Verifying whether all this is true can come after that." Goodale said, "I agree with Harjit though. If there's an army standing on the other side of that gate threatening one of our most important cities, we have to neutralize it before it can harm us."

"How do we go about it? Do we send a diplomat through this gate? Soldiers under a flag of truce?" Trudeau said, "I personally don't want to risk any of our citizens or troops uselessly."

"We could send a drone bearing a message?" Goodale suggested,"That way we won't risk any lives."

"If they're medieval, they might panic and attack us out of fear." Sajjan said, shaking his head.

"What if we send the scout back through? Tell him to tell his leadership to dispatch a diplomatic party? None of our people would have to transverse the gate and we have the home security advantage." Freeland suggested, "Perhaps a gift of good will would be fine as well."

"What would count as good will?" Trudeau asked.

"Considering that the scout showed up with no knowledge of winter, perhaps a coat for Princess Henrietta? It would show them that we are the ones in the stronger position and convince her to come."

"That wouldn't verify anything though. Different people can tell the same lie. Until we send someone through to see it with their own eyes, we won't know for sure." Sajjan replied.

"We can save that step for later," Trudeau mediated, "I think a coat and an invitation to come to our world would the best option currently available. That would allow us to prevent armed conflict and hold the strong hand in any negotiation."

"And if this gate really does connect us to a medieval world with new countries?"

"We'll figure that out when we find out it's true." the Prime Minister concluded.

* * *

It had been almost a week since the scout had crossed the Gate's threshold and disappeared with no sign of life. The same time had passed in both worlds.

Claude stood at the exit of the hospital, decked in a warm coat made from an unknown material. He had been escorted to the exit by guards after one of their white coated healers said he was well enough. It was black and had on the edge of the hood. The most unusual thing was that it was fashioned to be attached with a two strange row of metal teeth and a clasp that attached both sides together.

The scout was surrounded with guards. Some wore the familiar black armour he had seen earlier while others had green livery. Perhaps they were from another corps of guards? A different banner because they were under a different noble? These green guards had different armour and they each carried what appeared to be green muskets with small telescopes on them unlike the black guards who carried a box-like weapon in their hands.

He suddenly saw the dark haired man who had interrogated him a few days earlier. The man walked up to Claude, carrying a large bundle and an envelope.

"M. Dubois, my leaders have decided to open diplomatic talks with your Princess Henrietta. Our allies, the United States of America, will be attending as well. This envelope contains an invitation for her and her diplomats as well as basic information on our two nations," he explained curtly, "As for this bundle, it is a gift of good will to Princess Henrietta. It is one of the warmest and finest coat our people have made. We hope that it will convince her Highness to come and discuss with us."

Claude didn't need to ask any more questions. He was to be the messenger. He, a mere commoner, was going down in history for helping his country forge diplomacy and possibly even alliances with these strange but powerful kingdoms. It almost made up for the terrible cold he'd experienced.

* * *

Princess Henrietta was tensely eating breakfast in the Royal quarters at the Academy. The past days since the scout's disappearance inside the Gate had been uneasy. Her royal troops were fortifying around the gate, but no further attempts to see inside it had been made.

The door opened, revealing Agnes, Louise and Saito. "Your Highness." Agnes addressed, "The Lady de Vallière and her familiar have arrived as per your summons."

"Thank you Agnes. You may leave us for now but please keep informed of any changes in the situation."

The chevalier bowed before exiting. Louise and Saito greeted the princess.

"Please sit down Louise-Françoise, M. Saito," she invited, pointing to two chairs. The table was well filled with freshly cooked food from the Academy's kitchens. Saito was doing his best not to drool over the plate as he sat down. Before he could serve himself and Louise, Henrietta levitated some of the food into his plate with her staff.

"Your Highness!" Louise exclaimed, scandalized, "This is beneath you! One of your station should not serve her guests in such a way!"

The princess shook her head.

"You are not a mere guest but a dear friend Louise-Françoise. After all you did for me in Tristania and Albion, you both are."

Louise bowed her head humbly.

"You honour us too much your Highness."

"Please, we are between friends," the princess replied, attempting to do small talk, "How have your classes been lately?" The answer was terrible, but Louise wouldn't admit that.

"I have been doing well on theoretical work but my spell casting is not yet up to par," she said softly.

"I see," Henrietta replied politely, "Perhaps you would like to visit the Palace's libraries this summer. I believe that the books might be of some help."

"Oh, I'd be very grateful your- Henrietta." Louise caught herself.

"What of you M. Saito?"

Saito tried to answer but still had food in his mouth. Louise glared at him, embarrassed by his lack of decorum.

"You dog! You are in the presence of royalty! Couldn't you at least show some proper manners?!"

"Schorry," he said before swallowing his bite, "I've been enjoying myself listening to Louise's teachers. Magic isn't something that exists in my world except for in mangas and other stories."

"Manga?" the princess asked in curiosity.

"Please Henrietta," Louise pleaded, "I don't like having Saito talk about his old life. It saddens him."

Saito shook his head, doing his best to hide his nostalgia.

"Manga are a kind of… picture books that my people make that tell stories," he explained.

"Such as great legends or noble deeds?" Henrietta said with excitement.

"Uhhh, not exactly." Saito said sheepishly, "Well sometimes yes. They're mostly written to entertain." Saito didn't think the girls would understand what slice of life meant. Or mechas. Or sci-fi.

"There's alot of choice really. Stories about fictional heroes, comedies and romance."

"The nobles in that world must truly be well entertained," Henrietta remarked.

"Anyone can read manga," he explained, "They're available to anyone actually. To be honest, there's a lot of entertainment for the commoners as you call them." He'd explained it before to Louise, but he doubted she'd told the queen. Louise suddenly piped up.

"Do you remember what you told me the other day? About "Stargate SG-1"? " she said.

"Oh, what about it?"

"Can you tell the Prin-Henrietta about it?"

"Sure?"

"What is this Stargate SG-1?"

"It's a… play in my world," Saito explained. He didn't feel like going into details about what a TV show was. He then went through the same explanations that he gave Louise earlier on before telling them about the first episode. Both girls were captivated by the tales of O'Neill and his soldiers fighting the demon-like Goa'uld.

"So suddenly, the warrior Teal'c throws a weapon to O'Neill, saying that-"

Saito was interrupted by Agnes entering the room, out of breath.

"The scout we sent through has returned!" It was a surprising bit of news. After so many days, they'd assumed him perished. Saito hadn't stopped sulking about it.

"Is he ok?" The Japanese boy asked. Henrietta nodded, wanting to know too..

"Yes," the captain replied."He appears to be in good health. He's brought back several items with him and insists to speak to you personally, your Highness."

"Please bring him to me Agnes," the princess ordered, putting down a cup.

"As you wish." Agnes left the room.

"That's good news if I ever heard any," Saito said with relief, "That poor man must have gone through hell."

"Saito! Could you be less rude towards the princess?!" Louise snapped at the insinuation that he did.

"No, he's right, Louise-Françoise." Henrietta admitted with evident shame in her, "I shouldn't have risked his life so callously."

"Your Highness… It was what was needed."

"Louise-Françoise, thank you but it was wrong to send a loyal subject to his death even if I promised him a great reward.

There was an awkward silence for the next moments before Agnes returned with the scout, the latter dripping with sweat. Both bowed before their princess. Louise and Henrietta noticed the large bundle that the man carried on his back. But Saito was staring at what the man was wearing.

"Your Highness!" Claude said reverently, "I have returned from another world."

"Another world!" Louise exclaimed, the shock overcoming her etiquette lessons.

"Yes. There's a whole world on the other end of that passage. I found myself in a foreign kingdom, and they spoke Tristainian and Albionion."

"How is this possible?" Princess Henrietta asked.

"I do not know but their leaders wish to open talks with us. We are very fortunate, your highness; they told me a scout entering their lands is normally an act of war!" That made the princess pale. "But they assured me they don't want war, your Highness." The scout insisted quickly. "I believe they are as confused about this gate as we are."

"What was their land like?"

"I arrived in a city of ice and snow. The cold almost killed me but I was brought to a great glass tower where white cloaked nobles used powerful magic to restore my health. From what I understood, the tower was a hospital. Great tower like buildings stood proudly gleaming in the sunlight. Even the great cathedrals of Romalia pale before these buildings of glass. The people were all dressed in magnificent coats that shielded them from the cold."

"They are powerful?" Henrietta asked.

"Very." The scout confirmed. "I saw thousands of soldiers of their army in the city. All musketeers wearing different shades of armor. Some wore black while others green. Strange golems flew through the skies making a chopping sound like a blade cutting through the air."

None of the other noticed Saito standing slack jawed to the side. All of this sounded familiar to him, but it couldn't be what he was thinking. Could it?

"What was their magic like?"

"I have not seen any magic performed before me but they had many constructs that moved by themselves. I cannot begin to describe how they healed me but they would make the greatest Water mages green with envy. They transported me from the hospital using a cart that had no horse and seemed to run on simply air. They used these carts to move their soldiers too. Distances that would take any other army hours to march."

"Did you meet their leaders?" Henrietta asked. It was the most important thing that she needed to know. What kind of kings ruled such a fantastical land and what would he do?

"I met no man who claimed to be their king or queen." The scout admitted. He was still unnerved by his interrogator, "I was interrogated by a man. I do not know his position in their court nor what magic he used but there was something… unnatural about the man that made my skin crawl."

"What was this man like?"

"He was very plain, like he could blend into a crowd. I could not see his eyes because he hid them behind darkened glasses but the way he talked," Claude shuddered, "It commanded me to tell the truth."

"Like a spy of some sort?"

"I do not know and I thank Brimir that I am away from that man. There was another man who questioned me. I believe he was a town guard." After a few days, he'd realized that some of the men were town guards and the others soldiers.

"A mere town guard questioned you?"

"Yes, he wanted my name, age and place of birth. Like I was a criminal."

"Did you ever see either of these men again?"

"Only the first one. It was when their healer mages had allowed me to leave. He gave this letter and this bundle from his leaders. An invitation to talks and a present of goodwill." He answered as he presented the items to the princess. As Henrietta undid the bundle, Claude explained what it was.

"According to that man, this is one of the finest and warmest coats made by their people. They are needed because of the freezing weather."

Just how cold was this world if Fire magic couldn't shield their nobles from the temperature? It was bulky like the princess' dress, but nowhere near as extravagant, being of a shiny black material that Henrietta and Louise never saw before. It was long, reaching slightly pass her knees. It had strange teeth that clasped it close. A golden logo depicting some kind of bird graced its right sleeve with "Kanuk" written under. It was probably the name of the artisan that made it. It did have an air of class to it, though.

"Did all of their nobles wear these?" Henrietta asked as she weighed the coat. It was surprisingly light despite its size and length. What strange animal gave such a pelt?

"Everyone in that city wore coats like this."

"Nobles and commoners dress the same?" Louise asked.

"From what I witnessed, yes. Even their military officers dressed the same as their troops." That was unusual. Battle mages always made their presence on the field of battle known.

"Perhaps they have different standards for their soldiers and officers?" Henrietta suggested, "How wealthy must the ruler of that kingdom be if his commoners can dress so finely?"

Claude then handed her a white envelope.

"Did you learn the name of this kingdom while you were there?" Henrietta asked as she opened it.

"Yes, it was the land of Canada." Claude answered. All three jumped as Saito made the first noise he had in minutes.

"That country is in my world!" he jumped up and exclaimed, looking almost faint, "Please read the letter your Highness!"

"Saito!" Louise scolded, "Please forgive my familiar's impudence your Highness!"

But the princess was too busy opening the envelope. She saw an elaborate Coat of Arms at the top on the fine paper. The scripture was identical to the one in Halkeginia but was written in a uniform way with each letter perfectly shaped and each word perfectly spaced. It was written in Tristanian.

" _To Princess Henrietta of Tristain, this letter is to invite you and your kingdom for talks with the nation of Canada on the matters of discussing diplomacy and the gate that has connected our lands. I hope that you find our gift to your taste and that you will wear when should you come to Canada._

 _It is essential for one to be well dressed as our nation's winters are harsh. As such, we hope that this coat is well received and that it conveys our wishes of goodwill to you._

 _As for how to answer, we ask that you send a diplomat so that we may take proper arrangements for extensive diplomatic talks between us. Our allies will be present as well to witness the proceedings. The diplomat may be accompanied by a retinue of guards but a large expedition will not be tolerated._

 _We await your answer._

 _His Excellency,_

 _The Prime Minister of Canada,_

 _Justin Trudeau"_

"A Minister?" Henrieta questioned, "Not a king?" Did this Canada not have a monarch? Or were they like Tristain, waiting for one to take the throne?

"My world." Saito mumbled to himself, not hearing Louise's question. "It leads to my world." He collapsed in a chair. "I can go home." He realized.

"You...what?" Louise asked, fear creeping into her voice.

"That's from my world," he muttered, almost chuckling in disbelief, "Home… Tokyo…"

The pinkette flushed bright red as tears began flowing from her eyes.

"JUST GO HOME YOU STUPID MUTT! I DON'T CARE ANYMORE! YOU'RE FIRED!" she screeched as Saito snapped back to attention before running out in tears.

"Louise wait!" Saito said before running out.

"This is a very grave matter." Henrietta hadn't even noticed her friend's outburst nor her running out. It was bad enough to contend with Albion, out across the sea. Now there was another kingdom, a powerful one at that with its own allies, connected directly to her own. The weight on her shoulders had increased horrendously in just the last few minutes.

But...maybe it could be an opportunity as well? Canada did not seem to have any hostile intent, as her scout had warned her. Said scout suddenly hit the deck as an explosion ran out in the background. This kingdom wanted to hold talks. Could they discuss trade? A military alliance? Maybe...maybe she could find another political marriage to aid Tristain and its people?

"I have to return to the Capital." Henrietta realized out loud. She needed to meet with her council. But she wasn't going back alone. Saito had said this was his world, hadn't he? She'd need his advice to make this go as smoothly as possible. But when she looked around, she finally realized both him and Louise where no longer there.

"Where did they go?" She asked out loud.

"Well, your Highness…" Claude started.

 **Author's endnote**

 **If you want to know what the Coat of Arms of Canada looks like, Google's your friend. As for Henrietta's coat; google up the Kanuk Olso coat.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'll see you next time!**


	3. Chapter 2: The Hour of Decision

**AN: Disclaimer: FoZ/ZnT belong to the departed Noboru Yamaguchi and whoever inherited the I.P.. Any real life organisation/person is merely being used in a fictional non-profit way. Special thanks to Trainalf for his help and co-authoring as well.**

 **Hope you enjoy this chapter! Please read and review.**

 **Saito's description of Canada and the US is one from an idiot nerd who's watched too many movies and saw too many shitty memes on the internet. Don't take it seriously ok?**

 **The Hour of Decision**

The sound of running footsteps could be heard in the second year students' quarters.

"Wait up Louise!" Saito shouted as he ran down the hallways. He was covered in soot as the mage had blown up a nearby portion of the wall when he tried running after her. He was met with more wailing and incoherent shouting.

He briefly saw Louise trying to open her quarters' door but she fumbled. The teenager quickly hit the deck, knowing what would happen next. Another explosion soon took care of the offending door and scorched the wall around it.

Saito sighed and knew who would be getting a new one.

"Louise!"

He heard more sobbing as he got closer to their room. As he entered, he saw the pinkette face down on her bed, her face buried in a pillow.

"Go away!" she yelled between sobs, "I don't wanna see you ever again you dog!"

The familiar rubbed his forehead.

"Louise," he breathed, "I'm not just going to abandon you like that."

She looked up from her pillow, her eyes red and her face flushed.

"I don't believe you," she sobbed, "Y-you should have seen yourself back there..."

"Well, I do want to go home," he replied kindly, "But not without you. I want to show you the beauty of my world."

She raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"B-b-but what about my responsibilities to the Princess and to Tristain?"

"We'll find a way," he answered with determination, "My world has ways of travelling and communicating quickly so it wouldn't be too hard."

Louise sniffed as a faint smile appeared on her face.

"Maybe you're not such a bad dog after all. You are more loyal to your master than I thought."

Saito snickered before drawing her in for a passionate kiss. Louise felt her heart skip a beat as their mouth met. Suddenly, they both felt a menacing aura fill the room. Breaking away from each other, both saw a tall blonde woman with glasses and pink eyes. She was dressed in a white and purple dress with a pink bow.

What stood out the most was her harsh face… and clearly angry expression. A dozen veins appeared to have popped in her forehead.

"WHAT. ARE. YOU. DOING. TO. MY. SISTER. YOU. MANGY. CUR?!"

Both Saito and Louise shook with fear as they imagined flames appearing around the woman.

"He-he-hello Eleonore," the younger girl stammered out, "H-h-how are you doing?"

Saito blanched at hearing the name. He could understand why Louise was terrified of her now.

"A-aah, L-louise told me about you E-eleonore," he stuttered before the woman turned her attention to him. Her stare froze his blood.

"How dare you address me so informally peasant?!" she roared, "How dare you defile my sister in such a way?!"

"E-eleonore, he's my familiar!"

Louise realized this was not the right thing to say as Eleonore pinched her left cheek and began scolding her.

"Little Louise… how dare you pervert yourself?! He is little more than a unwashed beast."

Saito felt a vein pop in his forehead at being insulted like that.

" _Excuse me_?!" he shouted back, surprised that he had the courage to talk back to the blonde harpy, "I might be Louise's familiar but I'm still a human being you snobby tart."

"What did you just call me _peasant_?!"

Eleonore released her younger sister's cheek.

"Saito no!" Louise whined, rubbing her reddened cheek, "Stop it!

"Only if she apologizes first!" he barked.

"What?! To a mere _commoner_?!" Eleonore snapped, "Little Louise! Mother and Father will hear of your debauchery and your laxness towards your familiar! As a matter of fact, they are coming with the De Vallière's army."

The pinkette's eyes widened as she blanched before turning towards Saito.

"You idiot! Stop it!"

"Not until she apologizes for what she did to you!"

"I should be the one demanding apologies!" the older sister retorted angrily as she drew her wand, "This filthy commoner needs to know his place when in presence of his superiors! Something you, as his master, should have taught him!"

"Eleonore no!" Louise saw Saito draw Derflinger, "Saito no!"

"And here I thought Pinkie had a temper, partner," the sword commented dryly, "Hey Blondie! Think you can tone it down with the attitude. Hey Pinkie, think you can teach your sister manners when it comes to men? I think she needs to get laid-"

"WHAT. DID. YOU. SAY. YOU. PIECE. OF. SCRAP?!" Eleonore roared as she readied her wand and Saito raised Derflinger, the runes on his hands shining.

Louise couldn't help but groan in annoyance. Her oldest sister had _issues_ with men. Eleonore's engagement with the Count de Bourgogne wasn't doing so well...

Whatever hell was about to break loose was averted by the arrival of Princess Henrietta.

"Your Highness!" Eleonore said, surprised before bowing. She was composed in an instant and put away her wand in her sleeve. Saito had lowered his sword. Louise took the diffusion of tensions as an opportunity to run up and give him a few whacks on the head.

"You idiot! You could have gotten hurt!"

"Ow, ow, ow," he groaned, "I was just trying to defend you against that-"

Louise's stare convinced him to stop his sentence there.

"Yes, hello." The princess walked right past Eleonore, much to her confusion, and up to Louise and Saito.

"Louise-Françoise, M. Saito," she said calmly, "Would you both accompany me back to the Capital? I require your counsel M. Saito."

"Yes your Highness!" both master and familiar replied.

"Is this about Canada?" Saito asked. The princess nodded before gesturing them to leave.

"I hope for your help, since you would know your world better than us."

Eleonore was confused, to say the least, about what they were talking about. She tried to follow them, only for the commoner musketeer captain Agnes to appear behind her.

"The princess' orders are clear Lady Eleonore," Agnes said almost contemptuously with no hint of doubt in her voice, "She is only to be accompanied by Lady Louise-Françoise, M. Saito and I. No one else."

Eleonore looked almost apoplectic as she stood there. What could her highness possibly want her and her mangy familiar for? Her sister couldn't even cast a spell correctly!

* * *

Moments later, Louise and Saito were boarding the Royal Carriage with the princess. Agnes was driving it while some of the Musketeers had saddled up. As the carriage began moving, Henrietta's look turned to Saito.

"M. Saito, what can you tell me about the Kingdom of Canada?" she asked frankly, "Do you think they would accept a political marriage?"

"Your Highness! You shouldn't degrade yourself like that!"

Saito straightened himself after the shock of being asked such a question.

"W-well, Canada isn't a kingdom," he answered, "In fact, few countries in my world are kingdoms. Some still have kings and royalty, but they're...figureheads. No real power. My country of Japan is like that. Our Emperor Akihito doesn't rule. Instead it's, when I was still there at least, Prime Minister Shinzo Abe and the Diet of Japan."

"You have an Emperor?" Louise asked, surprised.

"Yeah, why?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" she snapped.

"You never asked."

Louise slapped herself on the forehead.

Henrietta looked downtrodden all of suddenly. How could she secure an alliance with Canada?

"I see. Do you know who is Prime Minister Justin Trudeau?"

Saito scratched his head for a moment before answering.

"Well, we don't pay much attention to leaders of other countries in our world. Canada is pretty far away from Japan too."

More disappointment for Henrietta while Louise was disappointed that her familiar wasn't as helpful as she wished.

"But I did hear that he was an honest, fair and respectful man. His people love him from what I remember."

"So how are alliances formed in your world, if not by political marriages?" Saito was only a high school student, so obviously he wasn't that smart about world politics, but he tried to answer.

"They negotiate fair deals and sign treaties that bind nations together. If they're in a country's interest, anyway" That troubled Henrietta; what could her small country possibly offer to a nation that was so wealthy?

"Ah, is Canada known for good dealings?" the princess asked, a slimmer of hope in her voice.

"Yes, they're known to be one of the most generous nations in our world," Saito said, "Their people are famous for their politeness and kindness."

Henrietta's face lit up.

"What of their people? Is it true that they live in a cold harsh land?"

Saito nodded as he remembered what he saw on the Internet.

"Very harsh land, apparently the weather is terrible with temperatures going from scorching hot to painfully cold very quickly. The land is also known for having terrible creatures like the polar bears who feast on people that aren't careful."

The Tokyo teen was trying to remember what he saw on the Internet without realizing most of it wasn't true. His company didn't know he wasn't completely sure about what he was telling them.

"Polar bear?" Louise asked, wondering how dangerous these bears were.

"Uh yes, they're big white bears that live in the frozen wastelands of Canada that like to hunt and eat people."

"Eep! That sounds terrible!" his master exclaimed, "How do they survive against those monsters?"

Saito scrunched his face in concentration. He suddenly remembered seeing pictures of Canadians on moose. That must be why those people rode those animals.

"They use moose to get away from them. Big... horses with wood growing out of their heads to defend themselves."

"They must be a hardy people to prosper in such conditions," Henrietta remarked, "Their warriors must be truly phenomenal."

"Yes. They're also known for their great singers like Justin Bieber and Celine Dion," he said, remembering other things.

"Oh is their nation known for their art?" Henrietta asked, "If they make such fine coats, they must be a land of great beauty."

"Yes yes. They have great painters that paint their lands."

"What of their allies?"

Henrietta was most interested in this question.

"Ah, they have many allies like the United States of America! They're allies of Japan too." Saito exclaimed. He saw plenty about that country online and in movies.

"What are they like?"

The Tokyo teen didn't know where to start.

"They're led by a man named Donald Trump," he finally started explaining, "He's a very wealthy businessman that was chosen to lead his country."

"Businessman?"

"Ah euh, a merchant."

Louise raised an eyebrow at this. "How could a merchant lead a nation? What do you mean 'chosen'?"

"Every four years, the American people choose a new leader for their nation. A leader can only be chosen twice." he explained, "And they liked him enough to choose him."

"I see," Henrietta said curiously. A nation led by a merchant shouldn't be too dangerous, "How powerful are they?"

"They're the most powerful and wealthy nation on Earth!" Saito exclaimed, "They have the mightiest weapons and millions of soldiers."

If a merchant led a nation, it would have to be wealthy.

"Millions?!"

"Many of their soldiers guard Japan from our enemies." Henrietta looked hopeful again.

"Do you think these nation would want to open diplomacy with us too?"

"Eum yes," he said.

"What are the American like?"

Saito had trouble figuring out how to explain the average American. Like Canadians, most of what he thought he knew was off the mark.

"They love their freedom and their land," he finally said, "So every American man, woman and child has at least five firearms to defend themselves at all times! They all know how to use their weapons very well! They fight alot too!"

"But M. Saito," Henrietta interrupted, "Firearms are nothing compared to swords and bows. They fire too slowly."

"Ah but you see, the Americans have weapons that can fire hundreds of rounds before reloading," Saito explained enthusiastically, having remembered the powerful American weapons in his video games, ''Their firearms are the best in the world too.''

Both Louise and Henrietta look awed.

"Really? How do they not conquer the rest of your world?" Louise asked, perplexed that such a warlike people could restrain themselves.

"The Americans like to be protectors of the World," Saito explained, hoping he was right, "They voluntarily defend many nations with their army, air force and navy. It allows them to fight all the time."

"Why do they need armies?" Louise asked skeptically, "If every man, woman and child has a weapon and are so warlike?"

"Euh, well their soldiers are even more warlike," he explained as he remembered the many American war movies he saw, "They're trained very harshly to the point of constantly praying for war! The soldiers are no longer humans but weapons that seek blood. They make up a lot of stories about wars and soldiers that everyone in their country loves. One of these soldiers, Rambo, could wipe out entire armies by himself… half naked with his bare hands!" He mimicked with his hands some kind of gesture that resembled a man twisting a neck, surprising both girls.

"Some love the smell of burning napalm in the morning! It smells like victory for them!"

"Na-palm?" Louise mimicked.

"Huh yeah, a kind of weapon that they invented with alchemy to burn entire armies, towns and forests to the ground. They used it alot against their enemies."

Both Louise and Henrietta looked horrified at this. The Germanians were well known for their love of war, but even that looked dwarfed by the people Saito was describing. Even the mightiest Germanian warrior mage wouldn't last long against any one of them. Louise sincerely wondered if these people liked bathing in blood as well while Henrietta imagined a half-naked berserker ripping a burning mage's head off with his bare hands while praying to some pagan god of war. She hated the idea but imagining that fate to Cromwell and Wardes after what they did to Wales was rather satisfying.

"They have this battlecry that they shout as they go into battle: AMERICA FUCK YEAH!"

Saito imitated a large firearm-like weapon being fired into the sky as he yelled the cry, surprising both girls. ''I think it's part of one of their favorite war hymns.''

"What kind of… barbarians are they!?" Henrietta gasped in horror. How she could ally Tristain with that kind of people?

Saito couldn't really answer.

"Our world barely understands how the Americans haven't destroyed themselves to be honest," he finally answered.

"How can those two people be allies?" Henrietta asked, surprise in her voice. One was kind and polite despite hardship… the other was perpetually bloodthirsty and warlike.

"They're brother nations." Saito said, "I think the people that founded both nations came from the same lands. Plus, they're right next to each other and trade alot. They want to get along or they'd be fighting all the time."

"That gives us some hope," Henrietta finally said.

"Saito?" Louise piped up, "What of Japan?"

"Well, we're an Island nation…" Saito started to tell them about his homeland.

* * *

As Saito finished his explanation of the United States and Canada, half of the regency council looked pale and sick. They'd been downright skeptical when Henrietta brought the scout Claude's report forward to tell them of the strange land beyond, but the boy's details were much worse. Richemont almost looked he was about to vomit his breakfast as he heard Saito's description of the American barbarians while Mazarin was pallid.

"So M. Saito," Delage asked nervously, sweat on his forehead, "You mean to tell us that a nation that bloodthirsty is nearby the other side of the Gate."

"Yes."

"The thing only keeping them in check are their allies where the Gate appeared," the First Minister continued, "But their allies could summon them to invade us if they wanted to."

"I mean...they don't like to invade other nations for no reason." So, technically that wasn't true, but Saito thought he knew what the man meant.

"That's… reassuring," Archduchess Marianne commented almost sarcastically, "What are your thoughts Richemond?'

The man seemed to regain some colour in his face.

"This gate is truly a curse for our world!" he exclaimed, "If these Americans came through, no one on the continent would be able to stop them!"

"At the same time, Canada wishes for peace and talks between our nations," Henrietta pleaded, "If they are willing to give such a fine gift and their leader honest, we must give them a chance!"

"Your Highness, I fear your judgement has been clouded. I know you regret costing our nation its alliance with Germania, but do not let it impair your thinking!" Mazarin responded, "There are too many risks involved!"

"May I add something?" Saito asked nervously. Delage looked at him and nodded. The shock of events had weakened everyone's will to stick to social norms.

"Yes M. Saito."

"The nation of Canada in our world is beloved by many for their kindness and generosity. They are known to help the poorest of nations," he explained, "The Americans have helped defend my country for over half a century. They even send their soldiers to fight in poor nations to bring order."

"My boy," Richemond said with contempt, "How can we trust barbarians of that kind? Your nation is wealthy so it is natural that the Americans would help you."

"We-well, the alliance came about after a terrible war between our nations," Saito replied, "The Americans won against us and razed many of our cities with powerful weapons. Our great cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki were destroyed with two bombs only."

The regency council was shocked. What kind of weapons did this world have?

"Two bombs?"

"Yes, one on each city," Saito answered, "Atomic bombs. Many people suffered because of them because they poisoned the land afterwards for a few years."

Henrietta gasped in horror.

 _'What kind of weapons did these Americans have?'_

Delage's next question was well chosen.

"How can an alliance blossom from that?"

"Well, the Americans occupied our country but helped us rebuild into a wealthy nation," Saito explained, "They saw it as way of making sure our nations didn't go to war again." To most of his audience, it was one of the most absurd things they'd ever heard.

"Hmmph! How do you expect us to believe that?" Richemond snorted in disbelief, arrogance dripping from every word. "How can warlike barbarians even make such a choice?"

"Well, the Americans had found stronger enemies called the Soviet Union. They wanted my country as allies."

"What happened to this Soviet Union?" Delage asked, intrigued.

"They collapsed because they tried to win against the Americans. Their economy couldn't stand against the American one," the Tokyo teen explained, "They didn't even have to fight that the Soviets collapsed by themselves."

Shock marked the council's faces. Just how mighty was this "United States of America" if they could win without fighting a single battle?

"I have faith that this meeting with Canada would bring good fortune," Henrietta declared, her voice steely, "From what we've been told, their world has advanced weapons and magic. If they wanted to invaded us, they would have done so by now. The way that they treated Claude, a commoner, after he arrived in their world show that their leaders are noble. They could have easily detained him and attacked us without warning."

"But your highness!" Mazarin pleaded, "This is far too dangerous! Even more reckless than what you have already done."

"No, Cardinal Mazarin, I intend to seize this opportunity. Have Count Mott ready to meet with their leaders," she ordered, "Scout Dubois is to return to Canada with a message from me to let them know the Count is coming."

* * *

A few hours later, Henrietta was standing in her quarters. She had finished writing her answer to Prime Minister Trudeau while Claude had been dispatched back to the Gate, under escort from Agnes's Musketeers to deliver it. Count Mott had also been summoned to the Palace and she had met with him. Outwardly, the man appeared to be ecstatic for the meeting as he left for his domain. The princess knew that the arrogant man would act like so as he envied any possibility to advance himself in her court. She had been lucky that the cowardly man didn't hear what Saito had said about the dreaded Americans.

"Greetings your Highness," a familiar voice sounded. Looking at the source, Henrietta saw her old friend and her familiar.

"Louise-Françoise," she greeted as she stood up from her desk.

"I've heard of your plans concerning Canada," the mage said, "I pray to Brimir that this goes without troubles."

"You shouldn't worry at all," Saito added nonchalantly, "As I've said, the Canadians are the nicest people on Earth despite their harsh lands."

"I am still worried about the United States of America," Henrietta replied, "I hope that they can contain themselves."

"Well, somehow, they still haven't destroyed my world so there's some restraint in those people," he shrugged.

"I also wanted your assistance M. Saito," the princess said, pointing to the black coat that rested on her chair, "I have attempted to wear this magnificent coat that Canada gave but I am unable to fasten it. I'm afraid I'm not very familiar with these teeth."

"It'll be my pleasure your Highness," he answered smiling. He felt Louise glaring at him and glancing over, he saw her familiar " _Don't embarrass me, I'm begging you_ " look written all over her face.

"Don't worry, I know how to attach these coats. The teeth are called zippers your Highness and are used on many pieces of clothing in my world."

"Ah wonderful," she said as she made her way to her new coat and draped over her shoulders, "I must admit, the artisan who made this coat has great talent. I have not yet fastened it but I already feel it's warmth."

"The Canadians are known for making good coats," Saito explained as he zipped her coat, "So to fasten this, you align these two ends together before pulling up this piece."

"It is deceptively simple and quick to attach," the princess commented, "It is quite warm. I presume that this is quite uneasy to unfasten."

"Exactly, you merely do the opposite."

The princess unzipped the black coat and looked at Louise.

"Would you like to try it Louise-Françoise?"

"No, I couldn't, your Highness. That is your gift from Canada, not mine."

"I am free to do what I want once I have received a gift, so please try it Louise-Françoise," the princess insisted as she removed the coat and made her way to Louise, "You are my staunchest ally so it is of no bother."

"But…"

"No buts."

Louise felt Henrietta place the coat on her shoulder and she slid her arms into the sleeves. It was quite hot and comfortable though it reached lower down her legs and her arms didn't reach the end of the sleeves. Saito then zipped up. It felt like wearing a hug.

"So do you like it?" the boy asked, "It looks good on you."

"Yes, it is quite comfortable but do you think you can take it off?" Louise replied, blushing slightly, "It's getting quite hot in this coat."

"Are you sure it's just the coat?" he teased with a grin, causing the pinkette to splutter.

"Ha-ha, very funny dog," she replied half-heartedly while Henrietta snickered in the background.

* * *

The eyes of the world were upon Parliament Hill, Ottawa. Despite the cold, Trudeau and members of his cabinet stood on a stage, the prime minister behind a podium. Reporters from all over the world had flocked to the Canadian capital.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. I am pleased to announce to the world the latest developments concerning the Montreal Gate.

A week ago, a man from another world called Halkeginia appeared from it. Not knowing our world's weather, he was almost killed by the elements but thanks to the hard work and skill of our doctors and nurses, he was able to safely return to his world bearing a message of peace and friendship from our nation to his leaders.

Our olive branch has been answered by the ruler of his land, Princess Henrietta of Tristain. In her wisdom, she has arranged for an ambassador to come to our country in five days with the desire of starting diplomatic talks with us and our allies. This desire for peace cannot go unanswered. We shall welcome his presence and salute the Tristainian people's desire for dialogue.

I also thank the efforts of our policemen and soldiers in insuring the safety of our citizens in Montreal. Without their strength, there would be chaos and anarchy. For that, I thank them.

This is a truly historical moment for both our worlds with opportunities paving the near future. Let us hope for peace and understanding in the beginning of this new age!"

* * *

All over Earth, reactions were mixed. Some saw it as an ill omen, perhaps the end of times. Others refused to believe Trudeau's words. Man from another world? It seemed more like a farce than anything. There was also excitement. A whole new world? This meant all sorts of opportunity!

* * *

The scout didn't lie.

Mott grumbled mentally as he and his five guards marched through the tunnel towards Canada. The howling wind resonated in their ears as he exited the structure. It appeared to be morning, the count deduced, looking at the sun above. He was thankful that he and his retinue of guards had enchanted coats that helped against the cold.

"Are you Count Mott?" a masculine voice asked in Tristainian. The voice had a strong thick, accent. Looking around, the count saw a man dressed in a red coat. It was similar to what had been gifted to the princess though it looked simpler. What stood out the most was the man's dark, almost pitch black skin. He was surrounded by a retinue dressed in dark blue coats. These men appeared to be fair skinned unlike their leader. Behind them, dark armoured soldiers stood at attention, holding boxes in their hands. Mott wasn't sure if these were the soldiers or town guards described by the scout. What surprised him was that there were barely a few dozen men guarding the area.

"I am Count Alexandre-Julien "The Wave" de Mott," he introduced himself.

"Greetings Count Mott," the dark skinned man said, "I am Richard Ambroise from Global Affairs Canada. I have been tasked to be in charge of organising the meeting between our heads of state to begin diplomatic talks."

The count was surprised. This man was in charge of such a great task but didn't possess a formal title of nobility.

"We've arranged a location for talks not far from here," Ambroise explained, "We have already transportation waiting, Count Mott."

The Canadian official pointed to a convoy of strange, horseless black carriages. One was particularly long while the others were shorter and boxier.

"Very well, you may take the lead Sir Ambroise." he said. The man nodded and led the count. The noble could feel the eyes of the black guards follow his every move. As he arrived at the longest cart, a man in a formal looking coat opened a door and gestured him in. Mott assumed the man was the carriage driver.

"Excuse me sir," the driver said, "I'm afraid that weapons are forbidden inside the limousine. Your guards are going to have to leave theirs inside the back trunk."

"Excuse me?!"

"I must apologize Count Mott," Ambroise said diplomatically, "It is the customs of our world that diplomats be unarmed as to facilitate discussions. It is also for safety reasons as their weapons are far too cumbersome for the interior of a limousine."

"I will have my guards relinquish my weapons," he replied snidely, "However, I refuse to surrender my wand. It is a symbol of my status." Secretly, Mott was concerned for his safety. Political assassinations were rare, but the events in Albion had left every noble across the countries worried.

Ambroise briefly raised an eyebrow but lowered it quickly.

"I believe a compromise is possible Count Mott," he proposed, "Your guards will stow their weapons but you may keep your wand."

Mott saw two of the Canadian guards look at each other. One approached Ambroise from behind and said something Mott couldn't hear over the damnable weather. The representative nodded before whispering and waving the man off.

"My guards will assist your guards in stowing their weapons in our transports. I invite you to join me inside the limousine."

Ambroise guided Mott into the strange carriage. The interior was like no carriage he'd ever been in. Luxurious black leather seats made up most of the interior while fine wood had been used to decorate the walls. The windows had some kind of enchantment that allowed them to see the outside world clearly but were darkened on the outside, allowing privacy for any passengers inside.

As the Royal Messenger sat down, he couldn't help but note how comfortable the seat was. It was quite different from a Halkeginiancarriage where he had to climb inside. He also realized that magic had also been used to maintain a warm temperature inside much to his discomfort.

"I hope you find this to your tastes Count." Ambroise said as he sat down and unfastened his red coat, revealing a simple grey vest that covered a checkered shirt and light purple cravat. The cravat was much simpler than those he saw in the various royal courts he had visited.

"You may close the door until Count Mott's guards are ready to enter," Ambroise ordered the driver be, "Would you like something to warm yourself? Coffee? Hot Chocolate? Tea? Water?"

"Pardon?" Mott had no idea what it was he was being offered.

"My apologies Count," the representative said as he placed a pearl white cup beneath a silver spigot, "You do not have these beverages in Halkeginia?"

"I have never heard of such things." Water was a commoner's drink and Mott could merely use his magic to satisfy his thirst. He would rather have wine, his favorite being the ones from Southern Gallia, The three other drinks intrigued him however.

"I see," Ambroise answered politely as he activated a strange device. The sound of a liquid flowing soon followed as Count Mott saw a black drink appear from the device and fill Ambroise's cup. The Royal Messenger could smell a rich aroma coming from it and was intrigued by it.

"This is coffee," the Canadian said, "It is a beverage known for its bitterness and reinvigorating properties. Many people here drink it to raise their awareness before working. Would you like a cup?"

The smell was extremely enticing to Mott who accepted the invitation. Pouring another cup, Ambroise handed it to the Count who accepted it with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. Tasting it, he found it very hot and bitter. But he could already feel warmth spreading through his body.

"It is possible to sweeten or soften its taste."

"I wish to try such flavouring," Mott asked, handing the cup to Ambroise. He added what appeared to be fresh milk from a small white container before pouring a white powder from a paper sack. Mott took back the cup and found the taste to more pleasant to his palate.

"This coffee is a fine beverage M. Ambroise," he said, "Is it a common drink?"

"Indeed, any man can easily find a cheap coffee to start his day. Most people see it as a necessity, even."

It stunned Mott that such a luxurious drink could be easily obtainable. As he enjoyed another sip, the door opened again, revealing their guards who were now unarmed but entered the carriage. Two sat down on the flanks of each man. A few moments later, the carriage started moving. The sensation was unlike anything he'd ever felt. It was smoother than what he was used. Looking out the window, Mott was shocked. They were passing by buildings at an alarming speed. The buildings looked sturdy and warm despite the cold. Some had gaudy signs and appeared to be small shops while others reached far into the skies. They were also passing numerous soldiers, all musketeers.

The carriage suddenly slowed down.

"We have arrived at a security checkpoint," Ambroise explained, "We've shut the area around the gate off for security reasons."

"I understand." He'd seen the Tristainian defenses back on the other side and while they weren't as numerous, they were no less formidable.

Mott glanced outside and he could see a crowd of commoners being held back by town guards with large black shields. "Do you always let your commoners act like rabble?" He sniffed disdainfully.

"Excuse me?"

"The commoners outside look quite rowdy," he snidely remarked, "We would never tolerate such a… disorderly display."

It didn't appear to faze Ambroise who looked at him with a polite smile.

"But you see, this Gate is such a fortuitous event that our commoners have arrived to witness it and to welcome the first official representative from Tristain," he explained, "It is our way to celebrate such a historical moment."

"Hmmph, it is far too irritating to see commoners act in such a way," Mott said arrogantly, still looking outside, "But it flatters me that your people already know how to welcome a member of Tristain's nobility."

A flash of light suddenly caused him to flinch in surprise.

"Why is there magic being used?!" he asked imperiously. Mott became nervous as the volume of flashes increased. His guards tensed beside him. Ambroise and his guards didn't seem to be affected and merely stay silent.

"That is not magic," Ambroise replied, "Those are our photographers. They are taking pictures to immortalize this unique moment. The flashes are part of the camera."

"What do you speak of?" Mott asked, bewildered.

Ambroise began to describe a wondrous device that allowed anyone in this world to make instantaneous, life-like paintings in an instant. The life-like paintings could be swiftly sent to other people for them to enjoy.

"Once these talks are done, M. Ambroise, I wish to be pho-to-gr-aphed," he demanded. Such an opportunity could not be passed!

"I believe that something can be arranged Count."

Moments later, the limousine had come to a stop.

"We have arrived at our destination," Ambroise announced as he reattached his coat. Looking outside, Mott saw more tall, square buildings with large glass windows that reached into the skies. What shocked him was the amount of windows that graced these buildings. He saw one of them being heavily guarded, with many black armoured men standing at various entrances and presumed it was the meeting spot. The Royal Messenger regretted exiting the warm carriage to face the weather again.

As his guards exited, they moved to retrieve their halberds.

"Count Mott," Ambroise said firmly, "It is not necessary for your men to carry their weapons inside. It is also forbidden by our laws to be armed during talks."

This made the noble nervous.

"Excuse me, but I cannot risk my own safety!" he snapped, "I am in a foreign land that is utterly different from mine. I do not wish to be unarmed!"

The Canadian official's eyes flashed with annoyance before he moved away with who Mott presumed to be the head of his guards. Both men whispered to each other and didn't seem pleased at the count's demands. Both finally nodded before returning to the Tristainians.

"My chief of security will allow your men to be armed," Ambroise reported, "However, he is displeased at the compromise and will answer to any act of aggression with appropriate force."

The count sniffed arrogantly.

"I am happy that you have come to your senses but I do not appreciate the insinuations of aggression that you have just made."

"It is the best compromise I can give you Count."

He and his guards were then led into the vast windowed building. Once inside, Mott was amazed at how warm it was despite the cold. There were also many people moving through the lobby dressed in coats or simple clothes that he had never seen before. Many carried papers or cups as they occasionally stopped to stare out the count whose dress stood out. It annoyed him that none of them bowed to his presence.

"I must apologize if this isn't warm enough for you, Count Mott," Ambroise said kindly as he noticed the annoyed look. He and his security detail were leading the Royal Messenger through the crowds of people milling around. It shocked Mott since the weather outside would have strained many Fire mages' magic simply to keep a small portion of this massive building from freezing.

"I am quite comfortable in this building," he said condescendingly, "I find their lack of respect offending however."

He pointed towards the building's staff who were back and forth without acknowledging his title. At best, they glanced quickly at him before turning their attention elsewhere.

"Lack of respect?"

"Yes, why am I not saluted by your court?"

"Ah, this is not a court, Count," Ambroise explained as the group walked through busy hallways, "It is an office building where our state employees work to make our nation function. This building is where our tax collectors calculate what our citizens owe in taxes as well as serve them with various services related to the State. In order to quickly organise the meeting between our Prime Minister Trudeau and your Princess Henrietta, they are instructed to not bother us during our talks."

The explanation both irritated and pleased Mott.

"I appreciate the desire for expediency but I will report this lack of decorum to the princess."

"I understand but my nation's customs towards such great matters is to be a swift as possible. This is how we show respect to foreign dignitaries by avoiding useless loss of time," the Canadian explained as they arrived in front of two heavy metal doors, "The conference room is on the 7th floor."

He pressed a button that was followed by the sound of a bell. The doors opened to reveal a small room of metal and wood.

"This elevator will take us to there. However, we will require multiple trips. I suggest that you and I head up first with two of your guards and two of mine." Ambroise proposed. Mott nodded in acceptance.

"It is a fair deal."

Both men then entered the elevator with their guards. Ambroise pressed a button before Mott felt a jolt. After a few moments, another jolt shook the passengers and the door opened. It revealed a very simple, windowless yellow hallway with brown carpet that was lit by white ceiling tiles. The count was unimpressed by this section. This was where a man of his importance had to negotiate? Moments later, the elevator unloaded the rest of their guards.

"Please follow me Count," Ambroise said, taking the lead. The Canadian noticed the condescending look on the noble but paid no attention to it as they walked towards the meeting room.

As he entered the room, Mott could see large windows that let in bright sunlight. He also saw large brick buildings that made up this city but most importantly, he noticed that the nearby waterfront, harbour and large ships. The nearby river appeared to be massive and the other shore looked well built up as well. Just how big was this city?

Simple wood tables and metal chairs with thin cushions filled the room. The tables were arranged in a circle. Ambroise guided the man to one of the chairs while some of the Canadian guards took positions outside the door. There was also a young, tanned blonde haired woman that entered the room with a clipboard. She wore clothes that fitted her figure well. A white shirt and a rather short skirt. Mott was doing his best to hide his lecherous look from her. As he sat down, Ambroise began to talk. The woman sat next to him and began to write with a strange wooden quill.

"Very well, Count Mott, let us begin this meeting," the Canadian said, "We have many topics to address surrounding Princess Henrietta's visit to Canada."

"Very well M. Ambroise, let us begin."

* * *

Later that evening, Prime Minister Trudeau had once again summoned his cabinet for another meeting.

"Good evening everybody," he greeted as he saw the familiar faces of Ministers Freeland Goodale and Sajjan. A quick round of greetings was exchanged.

"Let us get down to business then," Trudeau declared as he sat down at the head of the table. "The reports from Global Affairs are here," Freeland said, "M. Ambroise has met with their Royal Messenger, Count Mott. They have been able to work out a timetable and arrangements for Princess Henrietta's arrival. Ambroise has however reported that the Count was rather difficult to work with."

"Define difficult?"

"He has a rather arrogant demeanour in general, demanding favours 'befitting his noble birth', " she explained, "For example, he demanded to be hand fed by M. Ambroise's secretary during their lunch, claiming that no noble fed himself when a servant was present. Despite the cultural shock, we have been able to reach an agreement concerning Princess Henrietta's visit."

"I see."

"However," Goodale spoke up, "CSIS and the CIA were monitoring everything he and his entourage did during their day here. According to them, the count and his party appeared confused by many things in our world. If they're acting, they should be getting Oscars' according to our agent that followed them."

"This means that there is truth to the scout's claims of another world," Sajjan added, "I've seen the security footage and they appear to be very primitive in terms of weapons and equipment. The guards were wearing metal hauberks and carried halberds similar to those of the 14th-15th centuries, according to our history departments' experts."

"The most alarming thing however was when we told them to stow their weapons during their transit to the meeting place," Goodale said, "Mott refused to surrender his wand, claiming it was an affront to his status of nobility."

"Have we seen any demonstration of his "magic"?" Freeland asked skeptically while Sajjan's attention was fully concentrated.

"No, the count didn't demonstrate any magic," the Minister of Public Security replied, "CSIS believes that the nobles might claim to have magic in order to legitimize their power over the population of Tristain. It has been done before during our history so they have reason to believe the same thing is being done right now."

This information was crucial. If CSIS's guess was right, this meant that they were possibly dealing with a dictatorship that violated human rights on a daily basis. But it did guarantee them a complete military advantage too.

"Did he tell us anything concerning Princess Henrietta?" Trudeau asked next.

"Nothing that the scout didn't tell us already," Freeland replied, "She's the heir to the Blessed Water Throne of Tristain and that she hasn't been coronated yet."

"Does this mean that she in power or not?" the prime minister asked, "If this Kingdom of Tristain is anything like the old kingdoms of Europe, she might be bound by a regency council and might have limited authority."

"Or be a puppet," Sajjan remarked dryly.

"That would make things more difficult," Freeland said, "I doubt that she has no power considering that she did send that count in her name."

"It could be a façade," the minister of defense said, "She could have been simply pressured into doing so."

"Until we meet this Princess Henrietta," Trudeau spoke, "We can only theorize. If I understand correctly, she is to meet us in two days in Ottawa at Rideau Hall?"

"Exactly, we've arranged for transportation with the Air Force," Freeman answered, "President Trump is to join us the day before."

Trudeau could see Goodale massaging his temples at hearing this.

"Security will be handled conjointly with the Americans as planned," Goodale continued, "They've already started arriving here."

"On to contingencies. Harjit, Ralph?"

"All military units in Quebec have been fully mobilized for any attack through that Gate and our troops have fortified the area around the Jeanne Mance park," Sajjan briefed, "More ammunition has been bought and is being shipped from our factories as well as the US. We've also been in talks with the Americans and we can count on their help if the situation worsens."

"As for Montreal, Mayor Plante, Prime Minister Couillard and I have prepared emergency evacuation plans. The Montreal Police Department has also been cooperating with our military to ensure our citizens' safety. They've deployed their LRAD's as well and the Fire Departement has volunteered some of their firetrucks to help."

"Very well," Trudeau said, "Should anything bad happen, we'll be able to properly protect our citizens?"

Both Sajjan and Goodale nodded.

"Let's recapitulate then."

Trudeau wanted to make sure that everything was perfect for this historical moment.

* * *

Upon hearing of Count Mott's return, Henrietta had returned to the Academy the next day with Louise and Saito in tow. Sitting in the Royal Quarters of the Academy, she finished listening to Mott's report. Saito and Louise were in the room as well, the Tokyo teen glaring at the arrogant noble. He still hadn't forgotten how the man tried to purchase Siesta as a mistress. Now the man was exaggerating some parts of his tale to make him look better. Such as claiming that he was given the finest beverages reserved for nobility and how the Canadians kept denying it was magic that built their great cities, saying that their world had no magic.

"Your Highness!" he gushed, "Despite their rudeness and lack of respect for nobility, they were generous enough to have this portrait of my arrival made."

Mott then unrolled a large roll of paper that depicted him in very life-like fashion. He was standing in front of large windows that overlooked a great city and its harbour.

"They used magic to paint it instantaneously and claim that it was reserved for the most important and dignified of visitors," he lied, hoping that it would awe the princess. "I believe that they chose to bestow that great honour upon me as a way of praising my efforts and patience during the talks."

"Thank you Count Mott," Henrietta said gracefully, "Your efforts have been most welcome in these troubled times. You are dismissed and I will reward you in due time."

"Thank you, your Highness!"

She noticed that Saito had rolled his eyes a few times during the count's report. After the noble was escorted out, the familiar burst out laughing while Louise and Henrietta stared at him.

"What's so funny Saito?" the pinkette asked, perplexed. Frankly, it didn't bother her all that much since she despised the lecherous count.

"Oh, it's because I've never seen someone lie so badly," he said between laughs, "That 'painting'? It's not rare at all on Earth! Anyone can buy a cup of coffee. My parents used to drink some in the morning!"

He felt a mix of sadness and hope when he remembered his parents.

"What?" Henrietta asked in surprise. He had told her that Canada was known for its beautiful art and wasn't surprised at what the count said about the picture.

"Not at all," he answered, having calmed down, "Anyone can have the device needed to take pictures and do it themselves. My country is known for making very good ones."

"How typical of that filthy lech!" Louise exclaimed angrily, "He's still trying to ingratiate himself with you your Highness!"

Henrietta merely sighed. With what she just learnt about the picture, it cast a doubt on the veracity of everything Count Mott had said.

"How much of what he said is true, M. Saito? she asked. Saito was a bit at a loss to answer her. Being a teenager, he didn't bother too much hearing about politics and government.

"W-well, it reminds me of what I heard about Canada back home," he explained, "M. Ambroise is as polite as I expected of a Canadian."

"Splendid!" Henrietta said, her hands clasped in joy. She dared to hope that the meeting with Canada would bring good fortune.

The princess looked at her friends.

"Louise-Françoise, M. Saito, I wish for you to accompany me to Canada," she asked.

"Of course your Highness!" Louise answered proudly, bending a knee before the princess, "It is an honor for me as a member of the de Vallière family to accompany in your trip to Canada!"

"I'll go anywhere Louise goes,"Saito said as he smiled, "I think you'll like my world!"

It was an opportunity for him to return home. Yet… he had grown to like Tristain, in no small reason due to Louise, and wondered how he could have both worlds.

* * *

The big day had arrived. In front of the Tristain Academy of Magic, Princess Henrietta, Louise and Saito were embarking on her royal carriage. The white carriage was pulled by four magnificent white unicorns. The green garbed Musketeer corps had mounted and surrounded the royal carriage as it began moving through the gate.

Sitting in the carriage, Princess Henrietta had donned the black coat that was gifted to her while Louise had an enchanted black cloak to shield from the cold. As for Saito, he got a spell placed on his clothes to keep him warm. The mage and her familiar were sitting side by side while the princess was in front of them.

It was a calm trip for everyone was too engrossed in their thoughts to speak.

For Henrietta, it was the fate of her kingdom and people that were in play. These talks were possibly what would save her lands from Reconquista and she had prayed for Brimir's guidance and blessings during the last nights. How wou

For Louise, she deeply feared that Saito would abandon her. He had been the best thing to happen to her. He was her first spell that worked, her first friend at the Academy and her lover. He had saved her life many times. He told her that he loved her but would his return to Earth cause him to run away from her? She blinked back tears at the thought and wrapped an arm around Saito's.

For Saito, he was excited about returning to Earth. Even if he wasn't in Japan… Canada would probably have a way to contact his family. At the same time, he was nervous. How would he explain his bond to Louise to his parents? How would he pick up his old life? He had grown fond of Tristain and the adventures he lived there. He felt Louise's arm wrapping around his. Glancing at her, he saw Louise frowning in worry.

"It's gonna be ok Louise," he whispered in her ear, "I promise."

"You'd better!" she pouted cutely as she snuggled closer to him, "Otherwise you'd be a bad familiar and I'd have to punish you!"

Saito smiled. He didn't know how it would be ok… but he would do his best.

* * *

In the hills facing the Jeanne Mance park, white uniformed soldiers were waiting inside foxholes and trenches dug into the snowy hillside. White camo netting had been pulled over the entrenchments. One of them was looking at the Gate's mouth with his binoculars. He could see the RCMP and SQ (Sureté du Québec) stand near the structure to welcome today's visitors.

Today was the big day that the alleged Princess Henrietta would arrive in Canada for diplomatic talks. He was nervous. What if invaders came through instead? His men had their weapons trained on the opening while his radio operator stood ready to call out orders and was waiting for any messages from the police standing close to the Gate. He ran through stations, making sure everyone was on the same page.

"Sir! We've got movement!" reported his radio operator, "Half a dozen riders! Along with a carriage!"

"Understood! Thank you Brisebois!"

Lieutenant Huynh felt his jaw drop as he saw the procession emerge from the black depths of the Gate. There were riders clad in plate armour and green livery… all female escorting a white carriage. Swords hung on their hips while some had muskets slung on their backs. What surprised him the most was that the carriage was being pulled by four unicorns!

"Ben tabarnak… guess this fantasy thing is real after all!"

* * *

As the passengers of Princess Henrietta's royal carriage emerged from the Gate, they heard the cold winds of Canada howling in their ears.

"J-just how cold is this country?!" Louise stammered as she shivered. The heat spell was being tested in ways it never had been before. Saito's teeth was clattering as well.

"T-too cold for nothing!" he answered back through clenched teeth. Saito hoped that the polar bears were under control. Being eaten alive after surviving all his adventures in Halkegenia was not something he wanted. Henrietta didn't appear too affected by the cold.

"Truly the artisan Kanuk is amazing," she praised, "This coat is quite warm. His Excellency Trudeau knows how to choose gifts for his guests."

"I-I almost wished he sent us some too," Saito complained as he saw mist come out of his mouth. Louise glared at him.

"Y-You're not helping!" she snapped, wishing she had something warmer as well and envying the princess.

Outside, the unicorns pulling the carriage were starting to whinny in protest, and the carriage slowed as they tried to struggle through the built up snow. The carriage finally came to a stop when a voice interrupted them.

"Excuse me!'" shouted a voice from the outside, "I think your mounts are having trouble your Highness!"

Looking out, Henrietta saw a man in dark blue clothes with blue and white patches sewn on his coat's sleeves approaching the procession flanked by two others dressed similarly. Behind them, more men stood ready, dressed in black armour like the scout and Count Mott described. A blue wool cap covered his head. She looked at Agnes who was scrutinizing the man.

"Please get away from us town guard!" sneered one of the Musketeers, "We don't need your assistance!"

The man was glaring back at her but surprisingly appeared composed in his answer.

"Listen! I am Lieutenant Jean-Martin Tremblay!" he yelled back, "I'm one of the city's mounted policemen. We haven't brought out our horses due to the cold weather."

Agnes answered back.

"I see. Please be silent while I discuss with this man!" she ordered her knights.

"Thank you Ma'am! We have arrangements for your mounts. Our city's guard stables aren't far from here and we have readied transportation for your horses and unicorns," he proposed. "Unfortunately, you'll have to leave them there."

Agnes was shocked. She didn't like the man's proposal at all. Leave their horses and the Royal Carriage here? It was madness. How would they make it back safely if something bad happened?

Inside the carriage, both Saito and Louise were clinging to each other for warmth, their faces bright red from a mix of cold and blushing.

"Saito! Let go! You're holding me too tight."

"W-wha?! You're the one holding me too tight!"

The boy turned his attention to Henrietta

"Y-your Highness! P-please tell Agnes to listen to those men!" Saito begged, "Th-they'll help us!" If she could order Agnes to cooperate with the Canadian policemen, maybe he and Louise could get out of the biting cold.

"Agnes!" Henrietta ordered, opening the door slightly and causing the rest of the carriage's passengers to shiver even more, "Please cooperate with these men. We're are guests in their lands."

"Yes your Highness!" the chevalier answered before turning back to the policeman. Even she was red-faced and shivering from the cold. A few moments later, Agnes opened the door.

"Your Highness," she said hesitantly, "The Canadians have brought another… carriage. They said it is a warmer and faster one and it will get us to the airport."

* * *

Observing the meeting, Lieutenant Huynh saw the carriage's passengers disembark, aided by what he presumed was the leader of Princess Henrietta's guards and the Montreal policemen. He noticed that what he supposed was the princess was a teenage girl with purple hair. Her bulky dress, crown and luxurious black coat gave her away. The next one to exit was a petite girl with pink hair with a black cloak and skirt. She was probably a lady in waiting for the princess.

"Tell me I'm not hallucinating," he muttered to his pronto (slang for radio operator attached to Canadian Platoon CO's), "But did I just see a pair of girls with purple and pink hair?"

"No sir," the pronto muttered back, "They have pink and purple hair… wait you see the third kid?!"

As he looked again, Lieutenant Huynh saw a dark haired boy guiding the pinkette.

"What the fuck? Kid looks fucking Asian!"

The first two girls were clearly, despite their fantastical hair colours, Europeans. The boy was clearly not.

"You noticed his clothing too sir?"

"Looks too much like something some teenager today would wear… not something from 14th-15th Europe."

* * *

Saito was never so grateful to see a car again. He was being led to a limousine by one of the police officers along with Louise and the princess. Henrietta's guards had finally given up their horses and the carriage. The policemen had assured them that the city stables would be able to take care of them. He briefly wondered if that was where the Canadians kept their moose and wondered where were the bright red mounted policemen. As he entered the limousine, he couldn't help but feel that he was being observed by some of the policemen and agents. Henrietta and Louise entered first, the mage looking rather happy at being shielded from the elements. Both were amazed at the luxurious interior within. Saito then entered, followed by Agnes and another Musketeer.

The rest of Henrietta's bodyguards were led to SUV's, much to their unease. Being separated from their charge and being told to board strange magical carriages that they didn't understand made them uncomfortable. It would be a tight fit for them as well, their plate armours being quite bulky compared to the interior and unpleasant to wear due to the warm interior of these carriages. They were however impressed by the inside of the vehicles.

Inside the limousine, there was a dark skinned man that he presumed was M. Ambroise. He had a pair of bodyguards sitting with him.

"Your Highness, I wish to welcome you to Canada. I am Richard Ambroise of Global Affairs," he said politely, "I see that M. Trudeau's coat is well appreciated."

"Yes, thank you Sir Ambroise," Henrietta replied before introducing herself, "I am Princess Henrietta de Tristain, crown princess of Tristain. This is Chevalier Louise-Françoise Le Blanc de la Vallière and her familiar Hiraga Saito. Guarding me is Chevalier Agnès de Milan."

Ambroise raised an eye when he heard Saito's name but diplomatic training kicked in.

"I am pleased to meet you and it is an honour to welcome you all to Canada," he greeted, shaking everyone's hands, ''Please call me M. Ambroise. I am merely a civil servant.''

It surprised the Halkeginians that a commoner servant was entrusted to meet with royalty. Was M. Ambroise that skilled? It also worried Henrietta that a commoner was sent to greet her. Did Prime Minister Trudeau see her kingdom as being that lowly? Seeing the massive buildings of Montreal made her wonder just how mighty Canada was. If M. Saito was right… the United States of America was even mightier as a nation. What could she bring that they would accept to help her?

At the same time, the limousine began to move. To his pleasure, Princess Henrietta and her retinue were far more polite.

"May I suggest a warm beverage before getting down to business?" the diplomat proposed with a kind smile, pointing to a dispenser.

Saito grinned from side to side.

"Do you have hot chocolate?" he asked excitedly. He didn't notice one of the bodyguards looking at him oddly.

"Yes we do M. Hiraga."

"Well then, I'll have one for me and one for Louise!"

Louise glared at him.

"Saito! Be patient," she said imperiously, "The Princess should be the one served first! M. Ambroise, please serve her Highness before us."

* * *

The rest of the trip proceeded smoothly. The Halkeginians were amazed at the great buildings of Montreal that stretched into the sky, some almost as high as the mountain at its center. Saito, on the other hand, was nostalgic of Tokyo. The buildings, nowhere as densely packed or as numerous as the Japanese capital, was a step closer to home for Saito. However, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being scrutinized by one of M. Ambroise's bodyguards…

 **AN: So for those of you who are familiar with my GATE fanfic, Lt. Huynh and his pronto Brisebois are imported from that universe. Huynh will be a bit different from Van Doos however. ''Ben Tabarnak'' means ''Well Fuck'' in Quebecois (aka the French dialect spoken in Quebec/Canada)**

 **As for Saito's knowledge about the US and Canada… well while I made him a nicer person, he's still a 17 year old Tokyo teenager with the knowledge of one. The average 17 year old isn't interested in politics and foreign countries… save for a few notable exceptions.**

 **Can you spot what movies Saito referred to when talking about the US?**

 **Louise is still gonna have some of that snobbiness/stuckupness but she won't be sociopathic/abusive. In other words, I'm shipping Louise/Saito and making it believable. If it's not clear enough, Louise in** _ **Fate of a World**_ **is going to be a much more pleasant person to be around. Saito will get the same treatment as well plus a brain.**

 **Hope you enjoyed it!**


	4. Chapter 3: First Steps on Earth

**Author's note: Disclaimer: FoZ/ZnT belong to the departed Noboru Yamaguchi and whoever inherited the I.P.. Any real life organisation/person is merely being used in a fictional non-profit way.**

 **Special thanks to Trainalf and F-14 Tomcat Lover for their help with this chapter.**

 **This fic is indeed inspired by GATE: Thus the JSDF Fought There! The idea of a portal is gonna be there… but GATE's plot won't be used at all...This gate is very, very different.**

 **First Steps on Earth**

A limousine accompanied by several SUV's had arrived on the tarmac of an airport. Despite the heavy snows, it was very well cleared, with planes everywhere preparing to take off.

"Welcome to the Montréal-Pierre Elliott Trudeau International Airport!" Ambroise declared while the limousine was making its way to one of the planes, "As per arranged in our schedule, this is where we'll take the transport to Ottawa. We should arrive around 8 o'clock."

Henrietta looked around and saw the planes taking off.

"M. Ambroise, are those your airships?" she asked in amazement, having never seen such constructs.

The diplomat shook his head.

"We refer to them as airplanes or aircraft, Your Highness. Airships are no longer in use," he explained, "Does your world have airships?"

"Yes, we power them through windstones," she replied, "What type of Wind Magic do you use?"

The diplomat shook his head.

"Ah, I'm not sure if Count Mott warned you but our world doesn't possess magic," he answered kindly, "Our aircraft instead use kerosene, a type of refined oil to power them. Many of our world's transportation uses refined oil to power them."

M. Ambroise's words surprised the Tristainians. This wonderous world didn't have magic if the man wasn't lying. Henrietta bowed her head.

"I must apologize for sending Count Mott," she said, "He is the Royal Messenger that has been chosen by my regency council. He isn't my personal choice."

"I understand your Highness. I am quite happy that you are wise enough to inform me of a such fact," Ambroise answered pleasantly, "Such honesty is very valued during diplomacy."

Behind him, one of the guards subtly leaned in closer to listen.

"Yes, I understand. Only through honesty can we hope to have fair dealings."

The Canadian nodded in agreement. The car came to a halt next to a aircraft and everyone was told to disembark by the drivers. As they got off, the Tristanians could see that it was mainly white with blue and red bands of colour painted on its underside. On its tail was a flag of two red bands and a single leaf in the middle. Written along its side was _Gouvernement du Canada/Government of Canada_. Numerous guards were waiting as well nearby while a staircase was installed alongside of it.

"What languages are they written in?" Henrietta asked as she pointed to the world, "They are familiar to me."

"That would be the two official languages of Canada, English and French. You can read both your Highness?"

"Yes, we call them Tristanian and Albionian however. This airplane belongs to the Government of Canada?"

"Exactly your highness," he replied as he led them to a stair alongside the plane, "Right this way."

As they entered the plane, the Tristanians were impressed by the luxurious interior as they were guided to their seats by the crew. Servants dressed with crimson vests, white shirts black ties and pants were helping them into their seats.

One of them bowed before Henrietta as she was installed in one of the more luxurious seats with Agnes seated to next to her.

"Welcome aboard CAN Force One, your Highness," he greeted, "I am Captain Mark Johnson, the head of the catering staff aboard this plane. I hope on behalf on the Canadian Forces that you will enjoy your flight."

"Thank you Captain," the princess replied as the plane began whining and started move, "This is a rather new experience for me. How long will it take for us to reach your capital of Ottawa?"

"We should arrive in about an hour your Highness."

Agnes was scanning with her eyes for any risk to the Princess's safety aboard the plane. She noticed that the crew didn't appear to have any weapons with them.

"What about the security measures? I do not see any weapons aboard this airplane."

"We will be escorted by warplanes from our Air Force. Us and our allies cooperate to keep the air space over this entire continent very secure. You have nothing to worry about." Johnson answered confidently.

"Splendid," Henrietta said, clasping her hands.

"Warplanes?" Agnes repeated.

"You will see. I must excuse myself your Highness. I must sit down since we are beginning take off procedures."

The man then left for the back of the plane as the sound of the engines grew louder. It unnerved the two nobles and several of the musketeers; no airship had such a racket when it flew. Saito, by comparison, was unphased. He was enjoying the view given to him by one of the windows.

"Is it normal for this airplane to make so much noise?" Agnes asked, sweat forming on her brow.

"Yes it is," M. Ambroise replied, "You have nothing to fear, airplanes are a very safe means of transportation. Hundred of thousands of these fly each day carrying people and goods all over our world. In addition, this specific plane is what my people use to transport our most important guests, including the Royal Family of Britain. I have been instructed to answer any questions related to my world's politics."

"There are thousands of these? And they function without magic?" That wasn't a political question, but he answered it anyway.

"Correct. Many of our citizens buy passage on these planes in order to travel to other nations for work or leisure. Some even own their own ones."

"Leisure?" Agnes asked, an eyebrow raised. How could such a powerful means of transportation be used for simple leisure?

"Yes, as you may have noticed, Canada's weather is quite cold. Many of our citizens travels to warmer countries to enjoy a reprieve from the harsh climate."

This shocked Agnes the most. Mundane commoners had such rights and wealth?

"What do you mean by 'Royal Family of Britain'?" Henrietta wondered. The man smiled.

"Canada is part of the Commonwealth, an organisation of nations that used to be part of the British Empire. All these nations were once territories of the United Kingdom that was the core of the Empire but were granted independence over time. Most have kept the Royal Family of Britain as symbolic leaders however."

"So who is the current monarch of the United Kingdom then M. Ambroise?" Henrietta figured it would still be important to meet another Royal in this world, even if their power was limited.

"That would be Her Royal Highness, Queen Elizabeth II. She is the symbolic ruler of Canada and has been in power for the last 66 years."

This baffled Henrietta and the rest of her retinue.

"How old is her Majesty?"

"I believe that she has celebrated her 92nd birthday a few months ago," he replied candidly. Henrietta had a thousand questions in her head.

"Has her rule ever been challenged?"

A woman that long on a throne was either very good at assassinating her rivals, very charismatic, a fearsome warrior or a very docile figurehead.

"Not at all. Queen Elizabeth inherited when her father, King George VI, died. She's outlasted many other leaders of our world in terms of age though her health is now constantly monitored by her doctors."

"Are we meeting her Highness?" Henrietta asked next. She truly wanted to meet a woman that reigned for so long.

The diplomat shook his head.

"Since the meeting was planned so quickly, it was impossible for her to arrive."

The Queen had not been invited since Trudeau and his cabinet were still wary and doubted the veracity of the Tristainian claims, mainly with magic. The appearance of a carriage drawn by unicorns and the princess's purple hair and Lady Vallière's pink hair were dispelling those doubts.

"Perhaps it would be possible for us to arrange a meeting between you and Queen Elizabeth in the future," Ambroise proposed.

"I would very much appreciate such a meeting," the princess replied before asking another question, "Was this airport named after someone related to Prime Minister Trudeau?"

"The airport was named after M. Trudeau's father who had served as one of our nation's longest and most remarkable prime ministers."

"Did M. Trudeau inherit the mantle from his father?"

"No, he was elected as prime minister a few years ago by the people of Canada. His father was prime minister in the same way."

"Do all countries in this world choose their leaders?"

"Many do but certain nations are ruled by dictators who use brute force to keep themselves in power. Canada and our allies have waged many wars against these nations in the past," he explained.

A message suddenly interrupted their conversation.

"Please make sure your seat belts are properly fastened as we are about to take off."

The Tristanians suddenly felt themselves lurching back as the plane gathered speed. Then they all leaned back in their seats as the plane started to rise.

"I must warn you that it is quite normal that you experience a pressure in your ears!" Ambroise shouted over the sound of the plane's engines.

"Why?"

"As this plane goes higher, the air pressure is different. It'll cause an uncomfortable sensation in your ears but it's not dangerous! Just wait it out!"

After a few moments, the plane leveled out.

"Y-your Highness!" Louise exclaimed as she glanced out a window, "Look outside!

A series of gasp was let out by the Tristainians. They saw the land beneath them… and the buildings of Montreal. The buildings appeared tiny.

"Even Albion isn't this high up!" Agnes said in shock.

"Is Albion a mountain nation?" Ambroise asked while his guard seemed to grow more interested.

"No, M. Ambroise," Henrietta replied, a hint of sadness in her voice, "It is a series of floating islands. We refer to it as the White Country."

"Floating islands?"

"Yes, a vast deposit of Windstones causes the islands to rise into the skies."

"Windstones?" Ambroise asked.

"They are a type of magically infused stones that allow our airships to fly. The deposits in Albion is so dense the earth itself rises."

"Fascinating," the man replied, "And these can these Windstones be used by anyone?" The Princess nodded. "I am certain that our researchers would love to visit such a fantastic land and get their hands on these 'windstones'." Henrietta shook her head.

"Unfortunately, that would not be possible in the foreseeable future," she explained sadly, "Albion has fallen to Reconquista."

"Reconquista?" Ambroise asked with a raised eyebrow. The name had been used in the past on Earth for the Catholic reconquest of Spain.

"Yes, the White Country has been embroiled in civil war between the Royalists, loyal to the house of Tudor and Reconquista, led by Oliver Cromwell, a renegade priest. Reconquista overthrew the house of Tudor and conquered all of Albion before proclaiming the Holy Republic of Albion."

No one noticed the guard taking notes behind them.

"What was the purpose of their revolution?"

"The Reconquista intends to conquer the continent, overthrow Pope Vittorio and replace him with Oliver Cromwell before starting a religious crusade to reclaim the Holy Lands from the Elves."

"I see." Ambroise said without missing a beat, "Have any members of the House of Tudor survived?"

"Unfortunately not," Louise answered, "King James was slain during the fall of Newcastle while Prince Wales the Valiant was murdered by a traitor's blade before my eyes."

She spat the last words with disgust in her voice.

"I see. Has this assassin been brought to justice?" The Canadian was surprisingly calm despite the grim subject of regicide. It was a little off putting.

"No, he has escaped," she said venomously, "Her Highness has placed a bounty on his head."

"Is this assassin's identity confirmed?"

Louise scowled a bit before answering.

"Yes… he was my fiancé! His treachery and foulness have led to the breaking of our engagement!"

"I can understand. Treason is one of the worst crimes one can commit in our laws as well."

Henrietta, Agnes and Louise nodded in approval. Some values were universal no matter the world.

"What of the other kingdoms? The scout you've sent us mentioned a kingdom named Germania."

Henrietta blanched. Just how much did they know about their world? She trusted her scout hadn't shared too many of their secrets… surely?

"I was informed that there was a political marriage between you and their crown prince but it was cancelled." He explained when she inquired.

The princess bowed her head in shame.

"Yes," she replied weakly, "What did the scout tell you?"

"Something about a scandal but nothing more. In any case, personal scandals won't affect our talks."

This gave hope to Henrietta.

"But about Germania?" he pressed on.

"It's a country to our east. They are known to be militarily powerful, perhaps the strongest on the continent. Only Gallia can come close to them," she explained, "They are currently ruled by Emperor Heinrich II but he is on his deathbed. Albert III is to be the next Emperor."

"What are they like?"

"Germania is a rather… rustic land. The people are quite passionate, brutish and down to earth."

Henrietta wasn't particularly impressed with Albert III's arrogant demeanour, boorish manners and complete lack of tact.

"What of Gallia?"

"Gallia is in direct competition with Germania in terms of power. It is also the most populated kingdom of Halkegenia, with 15 million people living on its territory. However, King Joseph de Martel of Gallia is known as the 'Mad King'. He is absolutely insane and it is what currently keeps his kingdom in check. It's well known throughout our continent that he murdered his brother, Charles d'Orléans, to get to the throne," she explained, "I have only met him once in my court. There is something unhinged with that man."

This disturbed Ambroise, who placed his hand on his chin.

"Is regicide common in Halkeginia?" he finally asked gravely. That would make diplomacy with this new world complex to say the least…

"Mainly in Gallia. Their monarchy has been unstable for a long time with siblings murdering each other for the throne. It is reflected in their coat of arms which has two staves but one crown. There's also rumours in many courts that any twins born to the royal lineage has one killed to avoid succession crises "

"Has your country had incidents like that?" He asked. Diplomacy with shaky governments were difficult, costly and dangerous. Just the fact Tristain could be conquered at any time might sway his government from long term or intensive agreements, Ambroise knew.

"It is perhaps by the grace of Founder Brimir that Tristain has never endured such torments," she answered, "My late father, King Henry, died of sudden illness while my grandfather, Philippe III passed away in his sleep. My mother, Archduchess Marianne sits on my Regency council. It is the first time in many generations that my kingdom has such a council."

"And your country is in between all three of these countries?"

"Yes." Henrietta confirmed. "Albion is a distance off our coast, but both sides consider it a border."

"I see." Ambroise nodded, "Who is this Founder Brimir?"

"Brimir is the founder of our Church as well as the ancestor of every Royal Family. His three sons founded our kingdoms after his death, 6000 years ago while his apprentice, Saint-Forscythe founded the Holy City of Romalia and established the Papacy. He gave us magic as a tool to guide our people into the future."

"Interesting. Do you know how he perished?"

"Betrayal," Louise said quietly, "The most complete legends say that he was betrayed by his elven familiar. She stabbed him while he was travelling with her in the Holy Lands. Ever since then, humans and elves are hostile to each other and the Holy Lands are barred to Brimir's faithful devotees."

"I see." For Ambroise, it seemed that this world was stuck in time. 6000 years and they still hadn't caught up to Earth's technology. It also appeared that their faith in their religion was extremely strong.

A voice over the intercom interrupted them again.

"This is the Captain speaking. We have met up with our escorts. For anyone interested, you can look outside to your left and right."

Looking out the viewports, they saw grey metal birds flying proudly on their side each with a man dressed in strange green armours sitting inside.

"That would be our Air Force," Ambroise commented, "They'll be guarding us until we reach Ottawa."

"Amazing," Henrietta gasped, "Are they knights?"

"Our pilots are very well trained but don't have any title of nobility," he replied proudly, "However, many do like to think they embody knightly virtues."

"Excuse me M. Ambroise," Louise asked in wonder as she looked around the plane, "But how can this world have no magic?"

Ambroise raised an eyebrow at her question.

"I'm afraid I'm not quite sure what you mean by that Lady Vaillière," he answered, "Do you mean how is our world the way it is without magic?"

"How can you have such great buildings and constructs without magic?" she replied, "I read alot of magical theory during my studies and nothing I read could allow anyone in Halkeginia to produce such things using magic."

The Canadian paused, trying to figure out what to say that wouldn't offend the Tristainians. He had been warned that the nobility was supposedly defined by their magical inheritance. Like humanity on Earth, the commoners didn't possess magic.

"Do not take offense to this," he finally said, "But our lack of magic forced us to rely on different means to advance our society. This is what allowed us to have the means to build the buildings you see. I'm afraid that I can't really explain how everything works in our world however."

Louise then looked inquisitevely at Saito.

"Say Saito? Do you understand much about your world?"

Saito scratched the back of his head as he wanted to explain how much he knew but was interrupted by M. Ambroise.

"Where are you from exactly young man?" This was a chance to probe this kid's obvious foreignness compared to the girls.

Saito felt his blood freeze as he noticed one of Ambroise's guard stare at him. Even if he couldn't see the man's eyes as the guard wore dark sunglasses, Saito realized that he and Louise had just done something bad.

"Saito?" Louise asked worriedly. She too had felt that something went wrong.

"I-I'm from Tokyo," he stammered out.

"Tokyo, M. Hiraga?"

Ambroise had an incredulous look on his face. Meanwhile, one of the other guards left for another room in the plane.

"How did you end up in Tristain then?" the diplomat interrogated, an air of skepticism on his face. Louise decided to explain

"I performed a ritual that caused him to be summoned. He's from this world."she explained, not liking how the man's tone changed to a very serious one, "Saito is bound to me as my familiar,"

"And how did this happen to you M. Hiraga?"

Saito sweated nervously.

"W-well I was walking in Tokyo and saw a green portal. I also heard a voice calling to me."

He rubbed the back of his head in nervosity while Louise didn't dare to look at Ambroise.

"Isteppedintoit," he mumbled out. Ambroise ran his hand through his hair before slumping in his chair. Things had just gotten more complex. If he was telling the truth, there was more than one way into this new world, and they weren't the first people from Earth to interact with it. And summoned? There was some unpleasant connotations behind that, to say the least.

"Did you tell them anything about our world?"

Saito gulped and nodded. He hoped that he wasn't wrong about what he said but Henrietta spoke up in a firm voice.

"It was through M. Saito's advice and knowledge that I stand before you M. Ambroise." the princess declared, "He told me about Canada and its allies."

"What did he tell you about our nation then?"

Ambroise was skeptical that some teenager from Japan would be able to properly describe Canada but he knew that he needed to break any misconception that the princess and her retinue would have before talks could happen. Louise and Henrietta looked at Saito was sweating nervously under the diplomat's gaze.

"M. Ambroise, he explained that Canada's people was known for its people's kindness and hardiness. That you have to endure dangerous predators like polar bears attacking you and survive with the help of moose."

Ambroise was baffled at the boy's explanations. That Tokyo teenager seemed to have seen too many jokes on the Internet and took them for cash.

"You're also allied to the United States of America, a nation of fierce barbarian warriors."

"Fierce barbarian warriors?"

Henrietta proceeded to tell the Canadian diplomat what Saito had told her about the US. Ambroise was speechless by the end of her explanation. He massaged his temples as he tried to figure out how to go about this without insulting anyone. He fought back the urge to laugh and suspected that his guards had to do the same.

"M. Hiraga is mistaken on many counts," he finally sighed, "Canada is indeed a harsh land though we've managed to cull the worst predators and made our territory relatively safe. We don't ride moose. It's a common joke used in comedy about our country. He is right however about my people's generosity and our fair dealings."

Saito wanted to crawl into a hole and hide his embarrassment.

"As for the United States of America, it is true that they are extremely wealthy and are the world's premier military power," Ambroise explained calmly, "The Americans aren't bloodthirsty berserkers even if many greatly appreciate their weapons. They also aren't all warlike and the American people are known to have many different point of views on entertainment and policy."

"The US Government does have its share of warhawks and the US Marine Corps is a force you don't want to meet in a dark alley if you mean my country harm," a new voice interjected from another seat, "But overall, it depends really on what part of America you are in. As we are almost an alliance of nations within a nation," a dark blonde haired man turned in his seat, "George Devers, US Central Intelligence Agency, a pleasure and honor to make your acquaintance Your Highness," the man nods his head with an arm partially extended.

"Oh! Greetings M. Devers," Henrietta is surprised to see the man; she didn't expect to be meeting someone from their country so soon. She noticed that he wore clothing identical to the rest of M. Ambroise's guards. His eyes were hidden by dark glasses but his presence was unnerving to say the least.

"Speaking of the devil, here's an American, M. Hiraga," Ambroise joked sarcastically, "As you may have noticed, he is not frothing at the mouth for blood."

"Oh, you should see my brother and sister though, one's a Marine and the other is a Marine Raider who specializes in finding villains and making their lives excitingly short," Devers responds easily enough. The Canadian diplomat rolled his eyes at the American's dark humour and glared at him to remain serious.

The group blinks, except for Saito who knew what the American means by his words.

"You shouldn't scare our guests too much eh?"

"What did he mean Saito?" Louise asked nervously. Something about that man speaking that casually about shortening the lives of villains made her uneasy.

"Well, um, the Americans are very persistent when it comes to getting payback," he explained quickly, "This was this man named Osama Bin Laden that ordered attacks that killed thousands of people in the United States on one day a few months before I was born."

"Thousands?!" Henrietta exclaimed, horrified at such a prospect.

"One of the worst tragedies of our two nations in fact," Ambroise stated, "Over 3000 innocent people died in one day."

"But what happened to Osama Bin Laden?" Louise asked hurriedly, "Was retribution exacted on him?"

"We got him." Devers stated simply, "It took us 10 years, hundreds more lives, a few of my fellow CIA their lives, and a whole lot of luck and determination to find that dirty coward, but justice was served. We killed him and disposed of his corpse in the sea so no shrine could ever be built to such a madman."

That sounded barbaric and cruel, but Henrietta couldn't help but wish a little that she had power like that to find Wardes and Cromwell.

"Yeah... you don't mess with the Americans," Saito mumbled nervously, hoping that Henrietta had remembered what he told her about World War 2.

"Listen to the Japanese boy," Devers suddenly said, "Japan tried to wage a war against us as brutally as it could, almost. We soundly won that war but our countries are now firm allies and important trade partners."

"I believe you Americans have a saying about that," Ambroise added, "No greater friend, no greater foe."

"Exactly."

"M. Saito explained to me and my Regency council the alliance between his country of Japan and the United States.

"Did he tell them the same thing he told you about our countries?" Ambroise asked sternly.

"Yes, M. Ambroise."

"And how did they take it?" Devers wondered, though he had a feeling he might know how they might have perceived it.

"Well, they were terrified of the United States and its might." Henrietta answered mischievously, "I believe that Justice Minister Richemont was on the verge of vomiting his breakfast and Cardinal Mazarin was on the verge of fainting I believe."

A chime suddenly interrupted their conversation. It was the captain announcing their arrival in Ottawa and to prepare for landing.

"I see," Devers grinned before turning to Saito, a more serious look on his face, "As for you, young man, I'm afraid you and Lady Vallière will have to accompany me rather than her Highness."

His tone meant business.

"I believe that your colleagues and CSIS have already arranged everything for them." He addressed one of the other guards.

Saito and Louise couldn't help but sweat nervously.

* * *

The cold wind bit at Henrietta's face as she disembarked from CAN Force One. In front of her, the scene was similar to the first airport she had seen. However, there was one major difference. A red carpet had been rolled out on the ground while red-uniformed guards stood at attention on both sides. The guards were dressed in bright red coats, black breeches that flared at the hips, cavalry boots and brown round hats. Agnes and the Musketeers followed her while Ambroise was following behind, accompanied by his guards.

As she descended, Henrietta saw two men at the end of the carpet, dressed in long black coats. Both stood proudly.

"Welcome to Ottawa," one of them greeted as she walked on the carpet, "I am Prime Minister Justin Trudeau of Canada."

"I am President Donald Trump of the United States of America."

The American president had a more nasally voice compared to the Canadian Prime Minister, she noted. However, the way he talked gave her a feeling that he was a man that brook no dissent.

Henrietta took a closer at these two men. Prime Minister Trudeau was far younger than President Trump. The American had an aura of opulence around him, befitting what she had heard about his wealth. He was well tanned, like the Germanians and had greying hair. He was broad shouldered compared to Trudeau. Henrietta was however surprised that Trump didn't appear to flaunt his wealth, his coat being quite simple. From Saito's description, she had expected him to covered in jewels and opulent clothing, not dressed in a simple black coat. She could sense that he was a proud man that knew his power.

Trudeau, on the other hand, appeared to rather friendly. His youthful, pale face was framed by wavy dark brown hair while his blue eyes gave him an aura of kindness. She could understand why his countrymen respected him.

"I am pleased to meet you milords," she curtsied respectfully.

"I am not a lord your Highness," Trump answered bluntly, "Neither is M. Trudeau here."

Trudeau nodded in agreement before bowing his head respectfully. Trump, on the hand, held his head high.

"Yes, I do not hold any titles besides the one of Prime Minister of Canada, your Highness. I am quite happy that you appreciate our gift to you."

The princess smiled and bowed her head.

"The artisan Kanuk's skill is impressive," she praised, "Such a fine coat would be unfindable in Halkeginia."

"It wasn't made by an artisan your Highness," Trump explained, "Kanuk is a company rather than one person."

This remark caught Henrietta off-guard. She hadn't expected such straightforwardness. Even Albrecht III had slightly more tact.

"Now Donald, Tristain probably doesn't have companies mass producing high quality clothes like us," Trudeau explained politely, "Her Highness probably made an honest mistake."

"Thank you M. Trudeau for the explanation. But if such clothing can be made so easily, why is there different levels of quality."

"Very simple your highness. Some people can buy expensive clothes that are better made, others can't. That's why we have cheap clothes and expensive high quality clothes."

"I see." she said, nodding. It made sense.

"Our transport should be here soon," Trudeau said as he led the group away from the plane. Suddenly, bright flashes and loud sounds caught Henrietta's attention. A large crowd of people had amassed behind some barriers that were held back by guards.

"Is this what Count Mott described as your commoners taking magic paintings of important people?" she asked.

"There not exactly magic paintings," Trudeau quickly, making sure that Trump couldn't get a word in, "They are our reporters and are sending a live image of what is happening today."

He then waved at the crowd of reporters and flashed a smile. Trump merely ignored them and kept walking.

"They are also immortalizing this moment so feel free to smile and wave," Trudeau suggested as he walked. Henrietta was rather reticent. To do such a thing in such a strange land was unnerving. She took a deep breath and turned towards the crowd.

* * *

Social media was having a field day with they saw. From the appearance of a unicorn drawn carriage to seeing a fantasy princess walking on a red carpet next to Justin Trudeau and Donald Trump and waving at a crowd, today was going to be a memorable day for Mankind.

Or Peoplekind as Trudeau would have said it.

* * *

Louise and Saito weren't enjoying their current situation. After they had landed, they were told to wait inside the plane while Henrietta and the Musketeers left with Ambroise. They had left the plane well afterwards with Devers and one of Ambroise's guards in the back of a black SUV. It had been a tense ride through the busy streets of Ottawa.

"Saito, you should have brought Derflinger," the mage complained just loud enough so he could hear. Saito shook his head.

"Not a good idea, there's no way we can fight our way of this," he whispered, hoping the other two wouldn't hear them and jump to conclusions.

"I'm sure my magic wou-"

"Indeed, trying to escape wouldn't be good for your health Lady Vallière," Devers interrupted, shutting up the pinkette, "What is this Derflinger?"

"My talking sword," he answered quickly.

"Talking sword?" Devers asked, disbelief evident. The intelligence services were amongst the most skeptical of any magical claims from the other world.

"Euh yes, Louise bought him as a present for me."

"I see. We've arrived at our destination."

Looking outside, Saito and Louise saw a massive white building with large windows. The parking was filled to the brim with cars but the SUV made its way to the back before stopping. Devers and the other man got out first. Saito's door was opened but as he and Louise exited, they saw a group of guards waiting for them. The man accompanying Devers began to order the guards to accompany them into the building.

Entering the building, the group saw a very plain hallway. Saito, however recognized the X-ray machine at the middle of it with guards standing near them. He also guessed that the unnamed man was some kind of secret agent.

"Make sure that they don't have any weapons on them," the unnamed man ordered.

"Yes sir!"

"Right this way please, Lady Vallière, M. Hiraga."

Saito walked first towards the device when he heard Louise's voice.

"What is that gate?" she asked nervously, pointing at the X-ray machine. Before he could answer, the secret agent spoke up.

"It is a device that will allow us to see if hid any weapons on you," he explained, "Please cross it."

"I-I see," she timidly answered as she walked through it. One of the man looked up from behind the device and nodded.

"Right this way," the secret agent ordered again, with Devers following him. The group continued though non-descript, almost empty hallways, Saito and Louise being increasingly nervous with each step. Finally, they reached a door that the secret agent opened. Inside was a simple white table with four chairs face to face. After Louise, Saito and Devers were seated, the last man locked the door.

"Greetings to you both," he said rather pleasantly, "Now you may be wondering why both of you are here."

"Yes sir," Saito said.

"We have a lot of questions for you two," Devers explained, "M. Hiraga, I had my colleagues pull up some information while we were waiting earlier today. You've been listed as missing since August 29th in Japan. The police investigation was inconclusive since the only evidence they found was a series of videos that show you walking forward and disappearing into thin air."

Saito nodded while Louise looked confused. This was how this world saw her spell?

"I saw a green portal and heard a voice out to me," he explained, "I think it was your voice Louise."

"What did that voice say?"

The Tokyo teacher tried to remember.

"I think it went like this," he cleared his throat, "My Servant that exists somewhere in this vast universe-

"My divine, wise, beautiful, and powerful Familiar, heed my call! I wish and assert from the very bottom of my heart. Answer my guidance and appear!" Louise finished, realization etched on her face. The two agents looked at the pair oddly. A Tokyo teenager was supposed to fit those criteria?

"What happened next?"

Saito explained that he woke up with a headache and with his ears ringing before telling the two men about how he ended up being bound to Louise with the pinkette filling in the gaps.

"So I then wake up in Louise's bedroom and she tries to order me around but I can't understand what she's telling me. At the same time, she's undressing herself in front of me-"

He looked a bit dreamy all of a suddenly.

"S-s-saito!" she yelled, flushing red and interrupting his little daydream, "T-t-that's not something you need to tell them!"

"Sorry! I forgot."

"Ahem."

"Uh yes, so she snaps and tries to do a magic spell but there's a big explosion and I'm on my back. But I finally understand what she's saying."

"Are these explosions normal when casting magic?" the agent asked, scribbling away. The last thing anyone needed was Princess Henrietta using a spell for any reason and blowing up both the POTUS and the Prime Minister of Canada in one fell swoop.

There was personnel ready to run that information up immediately, even if it caused an incident; safety over diplomacy.

Saito glanced at Louise, who looked downcast.

"Do you want me to explain or?"

"No, I'm unable to do any elemental magic that doesn't explode," she said quietly, "That's why I'm called the Zero."

"I see. What have you two been doing since then?"

Both straightened out as they began telling of some of their many adventures in Tristain and Halkeginia. How they became friends and then fell in love with each other over time. How Louise would do her best to cheer up Saito when she caught him crying at night, missing his home of Tokyo and how Saito tried to make her smile after a failed spell.

What got the attention of the agents was when Louise mentioned a Staff of Destruction.

"I told you Louise but the Staff of Destruction is a weapon from my world," Saito explained. Devers and the other agent leaned forward.

"M. Saito, what was this 'Staff of Destruction'?" the American asked intently.

"It was an M-72 Rocket Launcher. The Headmaster said a man showed up with two of them years ago and saved his life by killing a monster that had cornered Old Osmond before collapsing there. He sounded like an American soldier. He's buried at the Academy for his heroism."

Inside another room monitoring the interrogation, the intelligence personnel gasped in surprise.

"Besides you M. Saito," Devers asked, "Did any of you find any trace of other people from our world in Halkeginia?"

"No sir," Saito replied as he shook his head, "But I did find another thing from our world, though," shifting nervously before coughing into one of his hands, his face a bright red, "It was an old Japanese porno magazine that another Noble family had summoned, don't know how as I never asked, but it became known as the Summoned Book and they used what they found in it to, uh…"

"Okay, moving on. What happened to this Staff of Destruction?" the unnamed agent asked, helpfully moving things along.

"Saito saved our lives with it," Louise praised, "He defeated an Earth Golem by blowing it away with the Staff- I mean M-72 LAW."

"Earth Golem?"

The intel guys were getting less and less skeptical about this whole magical world.

* * *

"This has been a most enlightening discussion your Highness," Trudeau praised Henrietta. The leaders were sitting inside a luxurious parlour with various paintings and other fine decorations in the room while Louise and Saito were discussing at CSIS's headquarters. They had talked quickly about their lands without going into detail. Fine wooden furniture contributed to the regalness of the room while men in dark suits stood guard. Agnes and her Musketeers were at table, listening intently to the various conversations. Unease filled them as they had separated from their weapons.

"Yes, it has been interesting," Trump added monotonically.

After arriving at Rideau Hall where the princess had been welcomed by Her Excellency, Julie Payette, the Governor-General of Canada and representative of Queen Elizabeth II in Canada. Henrietta had finally seen a portrait of the British monarch. It had astounded that a monarch reigned for so long and despite being a symbolic leader, there was a certain majesty to the Sovereign.

The princess realized just how wealthy the Queen was with a diamond crown and vast amount of jewelry. It was a distant cry from the simple suits that M. Trudeau and M. Trump wore. The elegance was there but it looked far more functional than many of the clothes that was worn in the courts of Tristain and Halkeginia. From what she understood, both men were extremely active in the daily affairs of their countries.

"Thank you M. Trudeau and M. Trump," she answered, "I have found the discussion very interesting. I wish to learn more about Earth."

"The feeling is mutual I believe," Trudeau replied, "I believe it is soon time for lunch however."

"Yes it is," Trump nodded as he glanced at his watch, "I was starting to get hungry."

"M. Trump?" His lack of tact had reminded Henrietta that he was a merchant, not a politician. She was curious to ask regardless.

"Yes?"

"Is it true that you are a wealthy merchant?"

The man seemed to show some enthusiasm.

"Your Highness," he grinned smugly, "I am one of the best ones on Earth. Maybe even the best one. No one can I sell like I can!"

Henrietta noticed his boastful tone, though she thought she heard someone in the background muttering, 'I can name a few.'

"Your Highness, before I became President of the United States, I have made incredible deals that you can't begin even begin to imagine! I have built a massive business empire that no one has never been seen before," he bragged, waving his hands around, "I am quite happy to see that my reputation precedes me!"

Both Trudeau and the security details found it odd she'd know such a fact. This was the Princess' first time on Earth, so how could she possibly know that? The possibility that this was an extremely elaborate sham had not been dismissed, and this didn't help matters.

The leaders were then led to the State Dining Room of Rideau Hall where the various servants working at Rideau Hall were waiting for them. Henrietta admired the fine craftsmanship of the wooden furniture and the room's white and gold walls. She could also smell the scent of exquisite food, some of it completely unfamiliar to her. One of the doors opened and a group of maids and butlers were bringing trolleys with food. They made their way to where the leaders were sitting and began putting fine silverware on the tables.

"Please, let me help you," Henrietta demanded as they finished putting a plate in front of her and brought a trolley of small bread buns, "It is least I can do."

"It is not necessary your Highness," a butler answered, "Please remain seated." But the princess shook her head and produced her Royal Scepter.

"I won't need to get up."

Waving her scepter, the buns began to levitate before landing on the other men's plate. There was a sudden silence before the security detail began to whisper furiously into their microphones and one or two had started to reach into their suits. Some even made their way to the table and took away the food that she had levitated. Both leaders looked surprised at the feat, to say the least.

"What is happening?" Henrietta asked in shock. Why had the guards reacted so badly?

Trudeau cleared his throat.

"Your Highness, was that magic?" he asked incredulously, looking at the Royal Scepter in her hands with amazement.

"Yes but I don't understand. It is elementary magic that any mage can use in Halkeginia." She looked apprehensive. "I'm sorry...is using magic at a political function frowned upon in your world? Is it a sign of hostility?"

"You're not in Halkeginia, your Highness," Trump replied, "There's no such thing as magic on Earth."

"I'm afraid that you may have scared our guards," Trudeau explained politely, "They did not expect such a thing to happen."

"Why are they afraid?" Agnes asked haughtily, "Her Highness is an honorable and honest woman! She would not have come here to attack you!"

"Please calm down Agnes," Henrietta ordered shakily, "I do not wish any harm upon you or M. Trump. Did Count Mott not warn you of our magic? Did he not demonstrate any of his magic?"

Trudeau shook his head.

"I'm afraid that the Count did boast of his… magical talents but never demonstrated any of it."

"Did he not serve himself with magic?"

"No, he claimed that no noble should exert himself when a commoner was around."

Henrietta mentally cursed Mott for his arrogance.

"I see," she replied weakly. Things were not going her way. She just spooked the two leaders she needed to talk with. Trudeau massaged his temples.

"Your Highness, do not let such a small... miscommunication discourage you," he declared kindly, "It is a bridge that our worlds needed to cross so that we may understand each other."

She nodded, hope returning to her.

"Very well M. Trudeau."

The doors then opened at that moment, a head stuck in, looked around, and saw Trudeau smiling and nodding. The head bobbed, before withdrawing, the doors closing with just a gentle click.

Unlike the guards, that one had a helmet on with a protruding neck guard rising up from the armor. But despite that, the person's face had been clear. It had been a woman.

"Was that a woman in that helmet just now?" Henrietta hoped so, as she wanted to steer the conversation away from her little faux-pas just now as well as taking her mind off Mott's lack of foresight.

Trudeau blinked and Trump raised an eyebrow.

"Yes Your Highness," the Prime Minister began, remembering that women serving in armed forces were quite recent, "We also have women in our military forces."

"And our Special Forces now too," Trump stated with his usual bluntness.

"You do?" Henrietta looked as surprised as she felt and no doubt felt her Musketeers felt the same, "Women in any position of combat is extremely rare in Halkeginia. The only order with a large number of women in it right now, is Tristain's own Corps of Musketeers lead by Captain Agnes here."

The woman in question sat up straighter before speaking, "Only women serve in the Musketeers currently as it is the only place we may serve at all. Not all of us are born as nobles as gifted as Karin the Heavy Wind."

"Karin the Heavy Wind?" Trump parroted with a raised eyebrow, but even he knew better than to make a remark about the odd title.

"Yes," the Princess smiled in memory, "Duchess Karin Désirée de La Vallière was once the Captain of the Order of the Manticore Knights and has long been an old friend of my own mother. She has also long since been our strongest Square Class Wind Mage and staunch ally of the throne. Her martial prowess is unmatched by anyone else in the Four Blessed Realms" Henrietta explains, "Her and Duke Centurion de La Vallière also command one of our kingdom's strongest armies as well."

"I see," Trudeau remarked, sharing a look with Trump who agreed with a nod not to test that theory until they have more information.

Continuing on, as she saw something here, "She's also the mother of one of my companions that was separated from us by a M. George Devers of the US Central Intelligence Agency along with her familiar, M. Saito," Henrietta could only hope both were doing well.

"I can have my aides check into that," Trump stated at once, knowing how these kind of things went in making deals, "Though that second name, Saito? Sounds like it comes from Asia?"

"He did say this is his world and he comes from a place called Tokyo, Japan," Henrietta informed the two men, "Lady Vallière summoned him during a ritual."

"Ritual?" Trump raised an eyebrow skeptically while Trudeau paid more attention to her words.

"Yes, all nobles except our Royalty undergo a ritual that would summon a Familiar to assist in their magic," the princess explained, "Lady Vallière is exceptional as she has been the only mage to have ever summoned another human being."

Both Trump and Trudeau were disturbed at the implications.

"How does she treat M. Saito?" Trudeau carefully asked, not wanting to show his disapproval to what he felt was slavery..

Henrietta giggled a bit.

"She and M. Saito get along quite well despite their occasionnal quarrels. He has become her lover."

This helped reassure the two leaders and both didn't feel the need to press on into two teenagers' private lives.

"They've been loyal allies to me in these trying times. Do you know why M. Devers took them with him?"

"Oh him? Probably doing his job," Trump brushed off her concerns, "Things are getting testy between a couple of countries and Japan. They're likely just making sure he isn't some terrorist in disguise or a spy. That would be trouble for everyone."

"Huh?" Henrietta tilted her head and both leaders somehow realized, if that image hit Social Media, there would be no end to the commentary.

Trudeau, though, managed to keep his composure, especially in the wake of Trump's rather simplistic explanation, "I presume that like your world and any nation on Earth, I'm afraid that Japan had been rocked by some terrible scandals in the past," the Prime Minister is thankful when the food is left alone to be served, "Regretfully, there have been terrorists even from Japan, a nation that has become even more pacifistic than we here in Canada since they lost the Second World War, plus they are currently in a number of disputes about islands in their region that has the potential to explode into war with one misstep."

Trump gently picked at his food, "We can discuss that later," he bluntly stated as he made a motion to one the guards and the man steps forward and leans in to hear what the President wants before nodding and moving on, "I've asked that my staff look into your companions, but I imagine it is just the CIA being the CIA and that amounts to them doing their jobs, which is Intelligence gathering."

Trump indicated the fine meal being spread out before them. Various side dishes such as bread, salads and soup surrounded a fine roast beef.

"As I have long since learned in business and politics, it is best not to mix either with a good meal as it can ruin the taste."

Even Trudeau is surprised at how Trump's sudden keenness. Then again, the man is a businessman. No matter how blunt or lacking in tact he could be, there was always a time for a more gentle touch in business. The Canadian Prime Minister hoped that Trump would show more diplomatic talent in future dealings.

* * *

"This is amazing," Louise whispered as she looked out the window.

The ride in the limo was a far cry from the SUV they had been in before. The vehicle being driven directly to Rideau Hall where the meeting between the Princess Henrietta and the two North American leaders had been taking place. This time, both she and Saito are being given quite the respectful show and even a brief tour of the Canadian capital.

For Saito, the whole thing felt as painful as his nerves were feeling. Though he could understand their skepticism and their need for security. He didn't miss the Internet explosion when someone killed a Canadian ceremonial guard a few years ago. Even Canada had its fair share of danger and that was before the Polar Bears, which he and Louise learned, had been a somewhat threat once and only really endangered a few very remote places today. The great Canadian cities and the many towns were fairly safe places.

It was the cold that was more lethal than any bear at this point. Even the bears were taking shelter according to M. Devers and the unnamed agent. Someone important had arranged for them to receive the nicest and most expensive winter coats that could be bought on such short notice. Something they both believed, but thankfully, they now had more proper attire for the cold and Louise was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially not with such an expensive gift too!

"Copy that, we'll be there in ten," Devers spoke into his mic after getting a communications before turning to the pair, "There's been a slight accident on one of our routes. A car slipped on the ice and hit another. No injuries, but it is blocking our direct path to Rideau Hall."

"Does that happen often?" Louise asked, curious as this weather looked fair. The sun was shining brightly in a cloudless sky despite the cold.

''Yes it does,'' the unnamed agent replied as he drove, "The ice can be treacherous for anyone inexperienced or careless. The accidents can get nasty with lots of injured people."

"And the weather can turn violent in a moment," Devers explained as well, "So don't think for a moment, that just because it looks nice, it will stay nice. I should know, grew up near the Sierra Nevada Mountains in California. Stories always abound about freak snow storms and blizzards in the summer that has killed or injured dozens in the past and will continue to do so until those mountains disappear, if they ever do."

"Wouldn't it be a strain for your healers?" the noble asked, "To live in such treacherous lands and having to heal so many injured people?"

Saito shook his head.

"Not really Louise, I heard that Canada and the United States have great doctors."

"Oh." A small idea formed in her mind.

"It also helps that we have been here for some time and have learned very important lessons," the driver stated as turned the wheel and gently applied brakes at the light, "A person can live anywhere once they learn the lessons of the land."

"Excuse me M. Devers but do you think that my sister can get healed by your 'doctors'?" she asked shyly.

"What do you mean?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, despite the best efforts of our best Water Mages and strongest healing magic, my sister Cattelya is unable to get well," she explained sadly, "Because of that, she has spent her entire life on our lands and at our main residence."

This tidbit caught both men's attention. The Tristainian magic had limits to what it could do in terms of healthcare. Perhaps Earth's science could help bridge that gap and with the aid of the Water Mages, propel forward the medical sciences in ways that science couldn't.

"I understand your wishes Lady Vallière. Such an arrangement would be possible once diplomatic relations between our nations are formally established." the unnamed man said. Devers, on the other hand, was texting on his phone before speaking again.

"That would be Rideau Hall where her Highness is meeting with M. Trump and M. Trudeau." He pointed a building of white stone with the flag of Canada flying before it. Around it were snow covered trees and there was a fountain that had frozen over in front. Louise was reminded of her family's ducal estate.

"Welcome to Rideau Hall."

* * *

Standing in one of the offices of Rideau Hall, Trudeau looked outside. He could see another limousine arriving at the gates. After lunch, Princess Henrietta and her guards had been led to another room to rest before the afternoon's talks.

Trump was sitting on one of the chairs, resting his eyes. A knock on the door woke the American president.

"Come in," Trudeau ordered. The door opened to reveal a man from CSIS. He greeted both leaders before clearing his throat.

"The princess's companions have just arrived outside," he reported, "Our agents have also picked up something interesting from Lady Vallière. Apparently, their magic has limitations."

"Oh?" Trump asked, turning his head to face the man.

"Yes M. President, she stated that she had an ill sibling that their magic couldn't cure no matter what they did. She asked us if our doctors could take a look at her eventually."

The president nodded.

"Interesting. This adds more to what their interrogation and what her Highness has said about Harkegena."

"I believe it's pronounced Halkeginia, Donald," Trudeau said politely, "But what do you think Princess Henrietta will want?"

Trump scoffed disdainfully.

"Probably money. These medieval people probably have cash issues. From what we've also heard earlier on, military assistance."

"That is quite evident given that her small kingdom is surrounded by two hostile powers," the prime minister stated, "That already puts my country at risk. If Tristain is conquered, Canada is at risk from invasion."

"Then blow that gate up," Trump said simply, "Send her back and get rid of that problem."

Trudeau shook his head.

"And risk a bad after effect in one of my main economical centers? It did appear with an earthquake."

"Point taken," Trump admitted after a moment, "Anything on how that thing got here in the first place?"

"We are still working on that," the agent stated in response.

"The various departments from all four Montreal universities are doing their best to understand what happened. Some think that if we destroy it, it might appear elsewhere."

"That is something we don't want," Trump stated. The last thing he needed was that Gate appearing somewhere in the United States. Or worse, someplace less friendly and extremely hostile.

"Indeed, we don't want anyone unpleasant getting their hands on that." Trudeau remarked. The list was quite long. ISIS, North Korea and Russia were a few examples that came to his mind, "There's also the prospect of untapped resources and a new market for both us. Possibly even ressources that don't exist on Earth."

Trump suddenly grinned at this.

"I like how you think Justin!" Trump declared, just as another knock came at the door and another man entered.

"We've gotten more info on that boy that was with Lady Vallière," the agent reported, his Texan accent showing, "He claims to be a Japanese citizen named Hiraga Saito that ended up in Halkeginia. We're trying to see if he's telling the truth about who he really is. According to intel, kid went missing a few months ago."

It confirmed what Henrietta had told them earlier or made it more believable for the time being.

"Thank you. How did this happen? How did he wind up there?" Trudeau asked. Henrietta's explanation of a ritual didn't feel quite believable by his logic.

"Well, it's quite surreal and ridiculous at the same time," the agent explained, "If things were entirely logical, I'd say some kind of Stockholm Syndrome. But I think we've established several grounds that are not completely logical in our sense of logic. The kid got there because he stepped into a green portal in the middle of the streets of Tokyo."

Trump face palmed in annoyance while Trudeau kept his own composure as best he could. The CSIS agent only shook his head.

"This sounds like something out of those weird Japanese cartoons," Trump remarked dryly trying to massage the headache he suddenly felt, "Why didn't that idiot realize that a strange portal was dangerous?

"It's more Japan's issue than ours, isn't it?" Trudeau managed to placate the President, feeling his own oncoming headache.

"Actually, M. Saito claims that he isn't the first to crossover," the agent stated to the surprise of those in the room. "We haven't verified this yet, but M. Saito claims to have encountered an American-manufactured rocket launcher in their world." Trump was now more attentive. "Supposedly an American soldier crossed into their world roughly 30-40 years ago. The man apparently saved a ViP of theirs before dying."

"How did he come across this rocket launcher?" Trump asked intently.

"The locals had it under lock and key- apparently they were under the impression it was some extremely dangerous magical artifact."

"To them, yeah," Trump replied, "Still is to us, so smart of them."

"Some agent of a religious organisation named Reconquista managed to steal the weapon, however, prompting Lady Vaillière and others including M. Saito to accompany a retrieval party. In the ensuing pursuit, their party was ambushed by the agent. In the ensuing fight, M. Saito was forced to use the M-72 against the agent's Earth Golem..."

"Earth Golem?" Trudeau's head was spinning. Were the Tristainians so bad in shape that mere teenagers were being sent on important assignments? The former teacher, now Prime Minister, hoped it wasn't a regular occurence in that world.

"Please send us some tea," he asked, sighing.

"How much more American property do they have?"

"That's the only item they've mentioned, but even then, US soldiers were issued two and we were informed the other was buried with our man on the Magic Academy's grounds. We suspect that there might have other items or even a full kit. Assuming this is all true, people and items from anywhere in our world can randomly appear in theirs."

Trump mentally noted that information for when he would see the Princess again.

"This is something we have to discuss with Princess Henrietta," Trudeau declared, "There could be other weapons from our world over there."

Trump nodded in agreement. A single use rocket launcher and a rifle weren't that big of an issue… but the prospect of more powerful weapons lost from Earth and lying in that world was an unpleasant one to think about.

"That could be an extreme security risk. I want that American citizen back though! He's probably listed in our records as MIA. Who knows what his family has gone through since he disappeared?!"

Trudeau looked outside the window again and saw the National Military Cemetery of the Canadian Forces before him.

"He also deserves a proper burial as well," he added, "Perhaps we can use this a way of showing off Princess Henrietta and Tristain's goodwill towards us. Show the world that they're people we can deal with."

"Good idea. If she agrees"

The CIA man cleared his throat. In his hand was his encrypted cell phone. Apparently, as the two world leaders had been talking, he had received a message.

"There was one other item, I've just been informed," the CIA agent shifted uncomfortably, "An old Japanese adult magazine had been, I quote, 'Summoned by a family of mages and rivals to the Vallière Family named Zerbst,' and has gained great importance apparently amongst certain circles including Count Mott as a sort of...magical artifact." That was actually one of the least insane things they'd heard today.

"So it can be just any random item?" Trudeau asked.

"Apparently," the agent states.

"Just what we needed," the CSIS agent grumbled, wondering what kind of twist of fate would cause a porn mag to be summoned by a mage.

"Well we know what to discuss with Princess Henrietta next," Trump remarked.

* * *

At the same time that the agent arrived to brief Trudeau and Trump, Henrietta had been led to another parlour with her Musketeers. The meal had been tense, with many of the guards watching her with great caution. She wondered if they would agree to help her. Both men had been hard to read in their own way. Trump was boastful while Trudeau maintained a diplomatic distance.

"Your Highness," Agnes asked, "Do you honestly think they would help us?"

"I don't know Agnes," she replied, "M. Trudeau was pleasant but guarded and M. Trump was..."

She tried to find her words to describe him politely.

"That man is nothing but a merchant. Dealing with merchants is more trouble than it's worth." Agnes dismissed. "We would certainly be swindled, especially if the man possesses great wealth."

"They are also distrustful of us, fearing the simplest magic," Henrietta added sadly, "That faux-pas almost put an end to our talks. Politics has always been between those blessed by Brimir, never people who lack his gift."

"Indeed, can we get anything from such a different world?" Agnes asked as she looked outside. She could see horseless carts moving through the streets and buildings taller than anything in Halkeginia in the distance. Magic was impressive, as much as she hated saying it, but this world seemed to have no need for it.

A knock on the door caught their attention.

"Your Highness, may we enter?" a familiar man's voice asked.

"Yes you may."

The door swung open, revealing M. Devers, his partner, as well as Louise and Saito. Both were dressed in what appeared to be expensive winter coats. Saito had a blue one that reached his waist while Louise had a red one that was slightly longer. Both men departed as the pinkette and her boyfriend got inside the room.

"Your Highness!" the noble exclaimed as she and Saito got on one knee, "Have your talks with M. Trudeau and M. Trump been fruitful?"

"Well, it is difficult to say," she replied mournfully, "We've yet to discuss any meaningful arrangements."

"Oh."

"What about you and M. Saito?"

"Well…" It'd been clear to the two teens that they were in some sort of trouble, but they weren't sure how to break that news when their Princess was already concerned with other matters.

"They asked a lot of questions about our adventures and my time in Halkeginia," Saito answered nervously. "We told them about some of the things that happened to us."

Henrietta frowned.

"Were they pleased?" she asked, suspecting that they would be displeased.

"It was... strange your Highness," Louise finally answered after a few moments of silence, "They simply kept pressing for more information until they told us it was time to leave."

Agnes raised an eyebrow.

"Why would they do such a thing?"

Saito gulped.

"They were trying to figure out how I got there." he answered, "They wanted to know more about how stuff from Earth ended up in Halkeginia."

"Like what?"

"They wanted to know about the Staff of Destruction," Louise explained, "and the man that brought it with him."

"Staff of Destruction? You mean the one that was crafted by Old Osmond and that's at the Academy?" Henrietta remembered, "What of it?"

Louise sighed. Of course, Osmond covered it up.

"It wasn't crafted by the Headmaster," the pinkette explained, "Saito said it was made in this world by the Americans. From what Old Osmond said about the staff, Saito thinks that it was one of their soldiers that had brought it with him."

"There was also that Zerbst family heirloom," Saito started before realizing where he was taking this.

"Saito no," Louise snapped, glaring at him not to continue. The princess's chaste ears didn't need to hear about such a depraved relic.

"What of it?"

"Nothing you need to know your Highness!"

"So things from this world have a way of getting into ours...Does this have anything to go with the portal?" She asked out loud.

Both Louise and Saito shook their heads.

"No one told us anything about the portal," the pinkette answered, "They simply pressed us for questions."

Agnes frowned at this.

"Either they don't know anything about the portal either or they distrust us your Highness," she reasoned. Henrietta nodded in understanding.

"If M. Trump is indeed a merchant, then he would have kept that information in order to better bargain with us and persuaded M. Trudeau to do so," the princess realized with shock.

Louise and Saito gasped at this information.

"Then what can we do?" Louise asked worriedly, "If they did that?"

Henrietta sighed.

"I don't know."

There was a knock on the door.

"Excuse me. your Highness, but the meeting is about to start."

 **Author's endnote: Looks like things are gonna be a bit more complex than planned eh?**

 **That's how reality works. Diplomacy and politics aren't easy things kids and anime tropes don't apply to today's diplomatic talks.**


	5. Chapter 4: The Great Powers

**Disclaimer: FoZ/ZnT belong to the departed Noboru Yamaguchi and whoever inherited the I.P.. Any real life organisation/person is merely being used in a fictional non-profit way.**

 **Author's notes: Here's the next chapter. Many thanks to Tundra Fox, Trainalf and F-14 Tomcatlover for the help here.**

 **To the reviewer called Fate: When you look at the FoZ's universe, you can actually realize that it's quite ripe for a political thriller. The whole Reconquista trying to take over, intrigues in Henrietta's court, the Gallian power plays with Joseph and Vittorio's scheming. The light novels considerably amp up the Pope's meddling and string pulling compared to the Anime. Since the main focus is on it being a harem series with the related tropes… well most of the political thriller aspects get thrown out. Hope you enjoy this chapter though… lots of political plays.**

 **Haven't forgotten about the Zero fighter nor the other Earth weapons scattered all over Halkeginia and hidden inside Romalia's vaults and crypts… Gonna be very interesting to write!**

 **The Great Powers**

Prime Minister Trudeau and President Trump were seated and waiting when Henrietta entered the room, flanked by Saito and Louise. She could immediately note the different atmosphere. There wasn't the friendliness of the earlier meal- this was all serious. Even Trudeau had stopped smiling. Her group were led to seats opposite of both men. The Canadian Prime Minister cleared his throat.

"The first matter we should be discussing is this mysterious portal that has opened up between our worlds," he declared in a serious tone.

"I understand," Henrietta replied, "This mystery is something that our best scholars are unable to comprehend. We have summoned the finest Earth mages of our kingdom to its site but it has not yet been conclusive."

"I see," Trump answered flatly.

"Have your scholars met with any success?" Henrietta asked, hoping that they would tell the truth.

Both men shook their heads.

"Our scientists don't understand any of this," Trump explained bluntly, "They've been working on it but without any success. We even called up our allies in Europe and they're just as baffled as us."

This caught Henrietta off-guard. A world with such wondrous things couldn't comprehend that portal?

"I believe that it would be in our mutual interest that our researchers and your scholars work together on understanding the portal," Trudeau suggested, "It could also beneficial that they work together on other subjects."

"I agree M. Trudeau," the princess said, curiosity in her voice, " Such a contribution can be beneficial but I cannot see what my scholars can know that yours do not."

"The answer is quite simple: Magic," he answered pleasantly, "We don't have magic on Earth outside of legends and stories. Many of our scientists would be quite happy to study how it works even if they can't use it."

Henrietta nodded in understanding and could see why Saito said M. Trudeau was popular amongst his people.

"What is your military situation your Highness?" Trump suddenly asked, his eyes narrowing in interest.

"Why?" Henrietta asked, nervous. Did he want to gauge her answer to see if it was viable to invade Tristain?

"Let me say this bluntly then: your country is now linked to our continent. If something goes wrong in your country, it can cause problems for us here. So we're very interested in making sure you don't have any problems," Trump declared with no uncertainty in his voice. Trudeau looked slightly annoyed at his very blunt and undiplomatic declaration.

"But what happens if something happens to your nations?" Louise suddenly asked. Trump smirked smugly.

"Lady Vallière! The American military is the greatest one on Earth. No other nation can even come close to us! We have the best soldiers and the best weapons available."

Louise could briefly understand Saito's explanation of American bloodlust as she heard the president's boasts. Trudeau did his best to hide his annoyance. His time as a drama teacher paid off in moments like these.

"Your Highness, the portal is located in the second largest city of Canada, Montréal," he explained, "If something was to happen to Tristain, it could jeopardize the safety of many of my citizens That is why we need to know the state of your military. "

"Not to mention that is fairly close to the United States' northern-eastern border," Trump imperiously injected, "The American people are also at risk if something happens to you, Your Highness."

Henrietta looked at Louise and Saito for support. The Tokyo teen nodded his head, urging her to answer.

"Tristain's army is small and woefully underequipped," she replied uncertainly, "Our airshipŝ are largely outdated while our alliances are gone."

"Gone?" Trump asked, frowning before remembering the briefing earlier that day, "You mean the arrangements with Germania?"

"Exactly, Tristain stands alone. Only the word of Pope Vittorio and Brimir's blessing protects us right now from our enemies," she paused nervously, "How did you know?"

Trudeau answered her question.

"M. Ambroise and his guards have reported to us what you've told them earlier on your flight here." Henrietta supposed that was to be expected.

"Ah, you see that our situation is quite… dire."

"I understand."

"Excuse me, but what of your alliances?" Louise asked, feeling her temper beginning to stir, "Are you and the United States allied only to each other?"

"No," Trudeau stated, "We are part of a much broader alliance that encompass 27 other nations called NATO."

"Twenty-seven nations?" Henrietta asked skeptically but both men nodded to confirm the Canadian's answer, "How does this alliance work?"

Trudeau sensed an opportunity.

"It is quite complex," the Prime Minister began, thankfully Trump kept quiet despite his opinions, "But the basic idea is that an attack on one is an attack on all."

Henrietta's eyes lit up. If she could get Tristain into such a powerful alliance, she could guarantee her small kingdom's independence for the future. Trump cleared his throat.

"Your Highness, please understand something though: purely military alliances are very rare in our world," Trump began, letting some of his businessman self come out to the fore while he maintained that he was a national leader, "We are interested in cooperating with your country, especially given the circumstances. We are also people who are interested in trade. We may help you to the best of our ability," he gave her a moment to let that all sink in before adding, "But we are not willing to risk the lives of our troops or antagonize other nations for no reason."

Henrietta took the meaning for what it was. They wanted to open trade with Tristain, likely to their benefit, but she wouldn't get a military alliance out of it. She was told to think carefully as well.

The princess shook her head.

"I am preoccupied mainly about maintaining my kingdom's sovereignty, not conquest," she answered proudly, "If I am to form an alliance with you, it is to protect my people from foreign threats."

Both men nodded in agreement at this.

"Perhaps when the diplomatic situation between our nations has normalized well enough," Trudeau suggested, "It could be possible to have a defense treaty. However, that will take time."

"There's also the matter of the American soldier buried in your Academy." Trump said in a very straightforward tone.

"You mean the man that saved Old Osmond's life?" the Princess tilted her head questioningly.

"Yes, that man," Trump stated in response, "We rarely bury our dead soldiers outside of America anymore. We bring their remains home so they may be buried by their loved ones and a thankful nation."

Henrietta was taken aback by the American leader's words and declaration. Even Agnes showed great surprise, being a soldier herself, she expected to, at best, being buried with some dignity on whatever battleground she fell. Even Louise showed her surprise, but saw Saito not so surprised and figured he either forgot or didn't think the information would come up like it did.

Trudeau, sensing their surprise and difficulty, spoke up next.

"Every major nation of our world and a number of the smaller powers, all try to recover their dead to be buried with honor and dignity as thanks for their service and sacrifices," Trudeau stated to both, " In fact, this building is in front of our military's national graveyard were many of our soldiers are buried."

"That being said," Trump began imperiously, "If you would allow our military to send a recovery team to exhume the body and collect the man's things, it will be very welcomed by the American people."

"My citizens will view this positively as well," Trudeau added.

"Pardon me for speaking out of turn," Louise began suddenly, "But how would you know the man is your one of your own?"

"We have ways of identifying our soldiers," Trump responded simply.

"We can identify men who died a century ago and return their remains to their descendants" Trudeau added to cement the fact.

"No man gets left behind," Saito remarked, having remembered that fact from the many FPS's he played.

Both North American leaders nodded in agreement while the Tristainians were surprised by the efforts to find a commoner soldier.

"We also need to collect all of his equipment," Trump continued on, "It's property of the United States Government. We are also not fools to believe that the weapons could not be misused either. Frankly, you're quite lucky that old rocket launcher didn't explode in your face or misfired."

"Explode?!" Louise yelped surprised before turning to glare at Saito, "Why didn't you tell me that?!"

"HEY!" he defended himself, "I didn't know how old that thing was anyways! Besides, did you have any other ideas at moment to kill that Earth Golem? If Kirche's family got a porn magazine from my world, it shouldn't surprise you that M. Trump and M. Trudeau probably don't want people trying to summon weapons."

"Exactly, M. Hiraga," Trump praised.

"Por-" Henrietta was interrupted by Agnes' quick action.

"Can we be assured that this 'recovery team' will only be just that?" the Captain of the Musketeer Corps had to be assured herself and changed the subject.

"Someone leave those two kids behind next time," Trump muttered a little too loud, but Trudeau recovered the situation, even though he silently agreed.

"Yes," Trudeau stated immediately, thankful to move this away from that topic, "These teams can be quite small or as big as a couple dozen people with heavy equipment if need be. They'll treat all recoveries with great care and greater respect."

"Then," Henrietta's attention turned back to the talks, "Of course. We will do what we can to make it swift so that your soldier may be returned to his native land and his family."

"Thank you Princess Henrietta," Trump nodded slightly, "The American people will thank you for such a kind gesture. We do what we can for our men and women in uniform. The very least is to make sure they are buried at home with full honors."

"I've seen enough anime to know you also want to have access to Tristain's resources as well," Saito accused as he remembered an anime with the JSDF in it he saw a few years ago, "You getting your soldier back, is one thing, the other is how we can get your help."

"Insightful," Trudeau didn't mince words, "There's a lot of liberties in the entertainment media, though, M. Hiraga and a lot of them are far from reality."

"We're not charities," President Trump stated, not knowing how used that line is in Anime, "But we are in the business of making good deals. Which frankly, despite what could be said, I doubt that Tristain's resources would really put a dent in our economies, but that said, we only stand to lose if we don't see what we got to work with first."

"You mean you need to know what we have for what we can give before we can trade?" Princess Henrietta frowned, as she didn't know what they could trade. Her kingdom was fairly small compared to the other Blessed Realms or Germania.

"A few examples of these Windstones that got mentioned would be helpful and a good starting point," Trump responded flatly, "Get an idea of how they work and why they work. We're also interested in magic, as we said earlier. But we also know there are limits and between the two of us, we could potentially get the best doctors available to work with your healers and see what magic can do with our knowledge."

"Cattelya," Louise said softly, realizing what was being put before them.

"Not only your sister, Lady Vallière," Prime Minister Trudeau kindly smiled at the stunned girl, "But many others who are sick or hurt and beyond your medical care as well as ours. We can help there as well as learning from your magic. There's possibly great potential for improving healthcare for both our worlds."

"Now to pay for it ain't going to be easy," Trump interjected, "I ain't going to lie about that. But a trade agreement will work out. You got neighbors, which from the sounds of it, at least one isn't trying to attack you right now and for the foreseeable future. That means a market of trade right there. We start with small stuff, get an idea, we got tools and people who can find resources and tell you what it is worth. Once we get a good idea, we can really start talking shop, but resources are only so much of trade."

"Such as?"

Henrietta could see how Trump became wealthy in the first place. Germania might begin to trade with the Canadians and Americans given its wealth.

And since Tristain was in between the three, that meant they _could_ get a bit of leverage to stay safe from their enemies.

"You grow grapes, make wine, yes?" Trump pretty much stated.

"We do and some areas have very nice vintages that are well liked," Henrietta knew that much before it clicked, "We can trade wine for something of equal value! We are also known for our fine breweries!"

"Correct young lady. A lot of people on Earth would be ready to pay lots of cash for new wines and beers they've never tasted including myself," Trump smiled at her, "Trust me when I said I can sell like no one can. Part of making a deal, is getting the other party to realize what they have and can get for it."

"Very basic," Trudeau interjected himself, "But you'll be surprised how often overlooked. On a side note, Montreal and the province of Quebec are well known for their love of beer and fine wine so you might already have a market there."

"We do have a number of things we could potentially trade and as a trade route to Germania and potentially other nations, like Gallia, we would stand to gain through the tariffs of moving goods," Henrietta explained her understanding of what they had given her.

"Princess Henrietta," Trump began, "Stay as Royalty, otherwise, I might have to sweat a little," the man laughed at his own joke, but part of the tense atmosphere was gone in that moment.

"Trade is more than acquiring raw resources," Trudeau began, glancing at Trump, "It is about trading what you have for what others lack for things they have that you lack. Most people today have forgotten this very basic lesson, regardless of nation, believing that any trade can be made in their own nation and forgetting that is not always the fact."

"Another thing that would need to be discussed," Trudeau continued on, "is if our businessmen- merchants if you will, will be safe in your country."

"You mean from bandits?" Henrietta wasn't sure how safe they would be from bandits and other unsavory things that roam around. They could provide a guard. But it wasn't a sure thing.

"Exactly, crime isn't good for trade," Trump stated, "That's why we've stamped out such problems here."

"So bandits are not an issue for you?" Henrietta is surprised, as even Gallia and Germania had many problems with bandits themselves, despite the size and power of their armies.

"In the past, yes," Trudeau responded, "Both our law enforcement has been extremely proficient at establishing order on our territories. We can get back to the bandit issue later,"Trudeau proposed and the other two leaders agreed, "Now as to what we meant, we actually meant about your nobles. Will they try to also tax and tariff our people and goods to move through their territories?"

"Oh," Henrietta responded, knowing that would be an issue, "They do have that right, but I can ensure that it is fair and not heavy handed."

"We're going to be busy again," Saito successfully whispered to Louise who can only nod in response.

"That will be a problem," Trump stated without hesitation,

"Tariffs are generally viewed as bad for trade," Trudeau added pointedly, glaring at Trump whop was oblivious.

"As long as you're willing to make your lands secure, we can make many great trade deals." That was good. Bringing such prosperity to her kingdom wouldn't solve some of the most pressing issues, but it'd be a good step regardless.

But then Henrietta remembered what Saito said.

"If I can assert upon the nobles to have fair dealings and preferrable arrangements, even spending some coin from the Royal Treasury to offset their losses, would it be possible for you to lend us soldiers to help fend off foreign invasions?"

That caught both leaders off guard.

"Huh?" Trump actually blinked at that.

"M. Saito had told us, that after you Americans defeated his country in a war, you rebuilt it and provided troops to defend it in exchange for trade, correct?" Henrietta pressed.

"Well…" Trump scratched at his opposite hand, caught off guard by that, "Technically, Canada was in the war too, but that's beside the point, I guess, and well…Committing troops is a very serious matter to us. We can't make any guarantees on it."

"For the time being," the Prime Minister added, "However, if our relations grow well, the possibility is there for us."

"I doubt that you would be able to join NATO," Trump remarked bluntly.

"But why?"

"NATO is an alliance dedicated to a specific region of our world. And to be honest, your troops would not be very valued or... useful compared to the other members." To the side, Agnes glared at Trudeau while he explained that fact. Tristain was small but her soldiers were brave.

"How are the beaches M. Hiraga?" Trump suddenly asked, his experience ruling a chain of luxury hotels kicking in.

"Huh?" Saito blinks at being addressed by the President of the United States.

"You've been there longer, right?" The teenager nodded."There's got to be places to see, right?" Trump pressed on the Japanese boy, "Tourist spots that people would love and pay money to got to."

Immediately, Saito got what was meant.

"Oh right!" Saito slammed one hand into the other, "You mean like beaches, fishing spots and nice sights M. President?"

Trump nodded with a grin.

"Yeah, there's some of that. I saw some of the country during my adventures with Louise. I bet people would also pay a lot just to go up in a real wooden airship too! Just like in anime and games!"

"Precisely my boy," Trump smugly leaned back, looking pleased with himself, "Once the security issues are addressed and a bit of time passes by, Tristain could become an exotic destination. Easy business for your inns and restaurants and likewise, if your people want to visit our side, to ski in the winter or head further south into America, it's easy business for us. Both sides win out."

"And with windstones we can trade for," Trudeau added, "That could encourage good will. And that good will would make it easier to consider providing troops."

"Yup," Trump's smile was so large that Henrietta thought that the man's face might break, "That probably could be something we could use. There's a lot of possible applications if we can get them to work on Earth."

Henrietta shook her head.

"Unfortunately, Tristain isn't known for its deposits of Windstone," she pointed out, "The greatest veins are in Albion who is occupied by Reconquista."

"Oh. Well, there are other things, as we've already discussed."

"When are you to be coronated your Highness?"Trudeau asked as he remembered her Regency council.

Henrietta swallowed nervously.

"It is a topic that my Regency council constantly dislikes discussing," the princess replied, a mix of nervousness and irritation in her voice, "They keep claiming that I am unready to rule and too inexperienced. Yet they refuse to let me gain experience through making my own decisions."

"But how are you here?" Trudeau asked skeptically, "If your Regency council refuses to let you take your own decisions?"

"Her Highness's Regency council refuses to let her take any decision they deem important," Louise answered flatly, "I think they don't want her to gain too much popularity or power amongst the nobles and the commoners."

Princess Henrietta scoffed.

"My Regency council did not view these talks as something meaningful nor did they expect them to amount to anything. I merely defied their wishes by coming here."

Trudeau and Trump grinned at this little tidbit.

"Your Highness, I think your Regency council will be quite surprised with the deal we'll give you!" Trump boasted, "It'll knock their socks off!"

"Indeed," Trudeau added, "While it will be slow initially, we can also assist in helping you use some of our agricultural techniques to aid in increasing your yields without extensive modifications to your farms for the time being. Perhaps introduce certain high yield crops as well."

"You can?" Henrietta found herself surprised, "How do you do it?"

"America produced some of the greatest minds of our world," Trump boasted again.

"My colleague is correct," Trudeau agreed, "Many people fled to both Canada and America in our nations' earliest years to escape danger, start new lives, or build their wealth. You'll be surprised how hardy our two nations have come to be over the last two centuries. We've taken in a great number of minds and scholars. This has lead to many important developments such as crops that can survive our harsh winters."

Henrietta wanted some of these developments for Tristain and her people. Increased crops could help stave off any famines and reduce its dependency on Gallia's imported grain.

"I see, thank you," Henrietta smiled, grateful for their assistance. Saito smiled at the proposals. They were surprisingly quite fair.

"We'll get some people to throw together a couple of packets for you to read on what might be the best areas to start in," Trump suggested looking to Trudeau.

"I'll have my people contact the necessary academies and agencies," Trudeau agreed with a nod.

"With these arrangements, the Regency council won't be able to refuse your coronation your Highness!" Louise exclaimed, a broad smile on her face.

"Now what is this 'Reconquista' your Highness, the one you mentioned earlier?" Trump asked, intrigued. He and Trudeau had read the briefings earlier, but a direct source was always preferable.

Henrietta's gaze hardened at the question.

"They are a revolutionary group led by a renegade priest of our Church, Oliver Cromwell," she explained, venom in her voice, "They are fanatics who wish to topple the thrones of the Four Blessed Realms."

"What are their demands or goals, your Highness?" Trudeau asked, carefully looking at her expressions as she answered. The name Oliver Cromwell was familiar to him though he couldn't quite put his thumb on it.

"They seek to unite all of our lands and overthrow Pope Vittorio Serevare. They have already conquered Albion, Tristain's oldest allies, and proclaimed the Holy Republic of Albion in its place and placed Cromwell as Lord Protector."

The name caused both Trudeau and Trump to raise eyebrows. That sounded dangerously like a fanatical theocracy. Something both of their countries already had plenty of issues with.

"Do they merely wish to unite the lands or is there an ulterior motive?" the Canadian asked, taking notes.

"Yes, they wish to lead crusades to reconquer our Holy Lands who have fallen to the Elves over 6000 years ago. They know they alone aren't powerful enough to do this, hence why they seek to subjugate the other Kingdoms."

Elves? Well… They had seen the unicorns and both of the young ladies had hair that was not natural on this side of that gate. Plus the princess had used magic. Hopefully they wouldn't have to worry about any demons or the like.

"We see," Trudeau began slowly, Trump kept quiet himself, but the Canadian could hardly blame his American counterpart, "And how do Elves view humans?"

Henrietta took on a cautious look.

"The Elves do not worry about human affairs. They prefer to keep to themselves and refuse to even trade with us. However, they do view us as inferiors and will not hesitate to kill a human if the need arises. Their magic is also far more powerful than ours."

"They are confrontational, then?" Trump asked.

"Not at all, they never leave their land of Nephthys."

"When was the last crusade undertaken?"

Trudeau needed to know that important little fact. Henrietta tried to remember her history lessons that were drilled into her head by her tutors.

"I'm afraid I don't remember exactly when they took place but it was many generations ago. Most of the details have been lost but we know that it was unsuccessful and that the sacrifices had been in vain. Reconquista seeks to avenge this failure."

"It seems that crusades are something that both our worlds have in common."

"You've had crusades in your world, M. Trudeau?" Henrietta asked, stunned.

"Yes, although for one of our Gods instead of any land. We can include information on that in those packages we mentioned before."

"Gods?" Louise breathed, "You worship multiple gods?"

"Not really, it's quite frankly more complex?" Trudeau replied, "There are many different religions on Earth but that is a question that is… not relevant to our discussions."

Trump scoffed at Trudeau.

"Did those crusades succeed?" Louise asked tentatively. The lack of magic and elves meant that they must have had a better chance of success.

"No," Trudeau answered simply, "They had their problems that led to their failures. But what is your faith? We've heard from M. Ambroise that you worship the Founder Brimir."

Louise and Henrietta took turns to explain their faith to the two men with Trudeau being interested in each word while Trump occasionally stared away.

Finally, the Canadian took a glance at his watch as he noticed the American president's lack of interest.

"I believe that this session of ours should be soon finished," he concluded.

* * *

"Looks like we are dealing with the real deal," a CIA agent said, glancing at his reports. The two Earth leaders were holding a meeting after the first round of (questionably successful) talks.

"There's nothing we can say against that," Trudeau remarked, "Magic, their hair color, M. Hiraga's story and how are those unicorns doing?"

"The vets report them to be largely healthy," a RCMP agent flipped through the notes, "They just have a few things in them that they only read about in their textbooks. The good news, is that they can be treated with on hand medical supplies and without invasive surgery. Well they think. Though they confirmed the that the horns are real. Bad news is, they are a bit jittery right now, apparently some of the sounds our horses are used to are too new for them and it's proving upsetting."

"So we ask for someone to fly back and calm them down and ask nicely to have a deeper look at them," Trump summed up, showing his annoyance in more than one way, "I'm still wrapping my mind around this, so I'm thankful for something that could be described as normal."

"At least her guards haven't been as troublesome as Count Mott's," M. Ambrose stated from his seat.

"Yes, well the Princess is a lot more pleasant than the count," Trudeau remarks, "She's surprisingly modest and pleasant. Though I would hazard, given from what we've seen, they probably pass for what could be described as a professional volunteer force, much like our own armies now are."

"Makes sense," Trump admitted after some thought, "They remind me of the Marine Guards at the White House in many ways. So that would explain a lot."

The three men nodded in agreement.

"But if she's telling the truth about those Reconquista people, setting up trade could be difficult," Trump remarked, "They sound like the kind of people to back terrorists or simply attack you because you disagreed with them on even the smallest thing. I don't want to send in our troops just yet, even I'll admit we'll a bit stretched right now, but there's a principle here and we all know it."

"Indeed, but these men don't exactly pose the same threat, do they?" Ambroise asked, "They're still a few centuries behind us."

"Their magic is a wild card that we don't understand," Trudeau answered, "We don't know the full limit of their powers."

"We know we have some effect," Agent Harper interjected, "The M72 LAW sounds sufficient for 'Earth Golems', but beyond that, we are in the dark."

"So that's something we should ask her Highness," Trump suggested simply, "She's probably well learned in magic considering her station. Probably had some of the best private tutors her family could buy."

"What about Lady Vallière?" Trudeau pointed out, "If magic is something that is the exclusive domain of the nobles then she must be well learnt about it too. Her powers are probably dangerous as well if she can summon a teenager from our world."

Agent Harper shook his head.

"No M. Prime Minister, Lady Vallière is called the 'Zero' in her world. She is apparently unable to cast any form of magic without it causing explosions. Apparently her only success is summoning M. Hiraga."

"I see."

Trudeau didn't even want to know how could someone can cause explosions with simple willpower and summon a person from another world be called a 'Zero'. He wondered what a competent mage could do that was more impressive than explosions.

Both leaders sensed a headache.

"As for trade, it'll still be hard to conduct even without Reconquista" Trump said, frowning, "Those nobles of theirs probably don't even understand proper business, finance and economics. How do we even convert dollars to whatever they use?"

Trudeau shook his head as well.

"There's also the issue of safety. If they're equivalent to our 14-15th century, their sanitation would probably be not up to par. Anything food related could possibly be dangerous."

"About that," Devers spoke up, "Apparently they do actually have some idea of foodborne illness and understand basic sanitation as well. We also think that their magic helped prevent diseases from spreading. In addition, M. Hiraga told us that they have fully functional indoor plumbing, crude by our standards, but according to some historians we spoke to, that knowledge wouldn't be new even by our standards, just very crude and simplistic."

"CSIS is in agreement," Harper stated, "Crude, simple, but functional and works. We believe magic might have helped them understand a few things and get around some issues that had plagued us. It would make some sense, but we find it hard enough to believe we're even saying that."

"I see," Trump replied almost greedily. He was already looking forward to sample some Tristainian wine.

"But what about M. Hiraga? The fact is that he is a foreign national to an allied nation,"Ambroise pointed out, "He's also listed as missing since August and his family is probably worried sick."

"About that, we can arrange to contact the Japanese Embassy and put M. Hiraga in touch with his family," Trudeau suggested, "Time zones might make things a bit difficult."

"That'll be a mess to explain to them," Trump groaned, massaging his temples "I'm not sure Abe would want to get in on this deal."

"Considering that Japan is far away and removed from the immediate situation, I'd doubt they would want to get involved as a general rule." Ambroise pointed out, "Their leaders are more preoccupied with the Chinese and the North Koreans, and to a lesser degree, the Russians. However, I'd think they'd want to get M. Hiraga back since they can't spare losing any of their youth."

"There's also the fact that he essentially got plucked from the street of Tokyo to be 'bound' as Lady Vallière's 'familiar'," Trudeau added, "That alone would get Abe demanding a few explanations, amongst other things."

"Sounds like kidnapping."

"What a headache," Trump groused.

"Exactly. That could be a diplomatic issue," Ambroise said, "This is will be difficult to unravel."

"I say we tackle the easy part first," the POTUS stated, "What kind of agreement can we give these people?"

"Anything to do with trade, scientific endeavours, and maybe economic aid could be interesting for them and would be at low cost for us. We can also set up diplomatic missions in their capital," Trudeau suggested, "Trade will be limited to what they can use immediately and we should avoid anything related to weaponry."

He already had to deal with critics about Canada's weapon deals to Saudi Arabia… he would never hear the end of it if Canadian weapons ended up arming some kind of genocidal religious crusade in a fantasy land.

"Agreed, we don't want our weapons arming dangerous fanatics," Trump nodded, "I think we can work something out with Princess Henrietta along those lines. We can also add in provisions for returning any of our weapons found there to us and something to ensure the recovery of that American soldier."

Trudeau and Ambroise silently agreed before seeing Trump excuse himself for an emergency phone call to Mattis...

* * *

Henrietta sat down in one of the chairs. She felt a surprising amount of optimism after her first true meeting with the American and Canadian leaders. Louise was almost leaping of joy inside the room.

"Your Highness! Do you realize just what this opportunity represents!" she exclaimed, "We might able to bring great wealth to Tristain! Perhaps even get you coronated!"

"Yes Louise-Françoise," the princess replied, "If I can secure any assistance from Canada and the United States. Even the smallest aid from them would benefit us greatly."

Agnes didn't seem to share their optimism as she seemed to be in deeper thought and greater concern.

"Everything seems too perfect here," the woman stated as she leaned against a wall, "Can we actually trust them? M. Hiraga was wrong about many things about them."

Saito flushed in embarrassment. Okay. Maybe it was true the Internet wasn't the most accurate place for information. He's learned that little lesson. Louise turned back at him with a disappointed look.

"Saito, why did you lie? Was it because you wanted to go home?" the pinkette said, sniffling and wiping a tear away, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Please explain yourself M. Saito," Henrietta ordered in a rather firm tone that lacked her usual friendliness.

He sighed briefly.

"Well Louise," he shifted nervously, knowing he had really screwed up and embarrassed her, "It's because that's what I thought I knew," he explained, "Honest. I'll be more careful about what I read. Promise."

"What do you mean what you thought you 'knew'?" she asked, perplexed, "How do you not know the nations of your world?"

"Well," Saito's mind raced, trying to explain the Internet and memes, "For starters there's alot of nations on Earth."

"How many are there?"

"I think one or two hundred, if I remember my class lessons right," Saito admitted, "So it's kind of hard to keep track of everything."

The three women looked at him with complete shock. The very idea of there being that many nations in their world… They struggled to wrap their minds around it.

"I think some are really small," Saito added, hoping it was helpful.

"Still, these are two powerful countries and you said that the United States had soldiers in your country," that allowed Henrietta to regain her mental traction.

"Yeah, it's because I didn't really attention in class when my teachers were talking about those countries."

"Dummy," Louise rolled her eyes. Sometimes her familiar was incorrigible.

"Hey! They were boring classes okay? I didn't get to learn about cool stuff like magic alright?"

"I still think you're a bit of dummy but you're my favorite dummy." the pinkette teased before kissing him.

"But yeah, I read about Canada and the United States on the Internet and saw movies about them," he explained after she broke off.

"Movies, you mean the plays with the moving pictures?" Louise asked.

Saito nodded.

"Do you think we could ask them if we can watch a movie?"

Her eyes were shining with enthusiasm.

"Sure!" he answered enthusiastically.

"M. Saito, you do realize that plays like to satirize sometimes no?" Henrietta remarked. How could someone not understand that?

"Yeeah," he drawled, "I forgot that."

Louise couldn't help but snicker a bit.

"Still, I must thank you for scaring my Regency council. It was most entertaining to see," Henrietta giggled mischievously.

"Oh I can think of another way to scare them," Saito had the biggest grin they had yet to see on his face and knew he actually meant it.

Agnes cleared her throat.

"Can we return to more pressing matters? I still do not trust M. Trump," she said, "No matter what he proposes, it is probably self-serving for him and his nation. He is also more powerful than M. Trudeau and can probably force him to do his bidding."

Henrietta sighed.

"Agnes, your counsel is indeed wise but do we have any other choice? Can we afford to refuse anything they propose?"

The knight sighed and bowed her head.

"No."

"Let us see what they propose then," Henrietta said before hearing a knock at the door.

"Excuse me but the next meeting session is about to begin," M. Ambroise announced.

* * *

The Tristainians and Saito were led through the luxurious halls of Rideau Hall once again. They were still impressed by the regal decor of the building. Magnificent paintings depicting luxuriously dressed people, magnificent scenery and great battles graced the walls that surrounded them.

A door opened, revealing the same meeting room where they had M. Trudeau and M. Trump. Both were already seated and were accompanied by M. Ambroise.

"I hope that you were able to enjoy the break in our discussions," Trudeau said warmly.

Henrietta nodded her head in agreement.

"Yes, it was most enjoyable."

"A little break can do wonders when it comes to clearing out your head and coming up with solutions," Trump chimed in, "Makes dealing and negotiating a lot easier. Speaking of which, Trudeau and I have come up with a proposal that will benefit all three of our nations."

Henrietta's face lit up with hope.

"Yes, our nations would like to formalize diplomacy and trade with Tristain," Trudeau stated simply, "We would like to set up embassies in your capital where our representatives will be able discuss with your diplomats as a starting point. Once diplomatic relations are underway, we're going start trading with you as well as allow the movement of scientists between our nations for research purposes."

Henrietta liked the proposal so far but something still itched her mind.

"What can we get from you?" she asked, "There are so many things that you can offer us."

Both men looked at each other before Trump answered.

"We'll have to see. America and Canada make a lot of goods that you would want. The importance is to figure what you should get first."

"Our scientists and other experts should be able to figure out your needs," Trudeau added.

"Very well, I like your propositions so far." Henrietta replied.

"I have also spoken with my Secretary of Defense, James Mattis," Trump said with Henrietta presuming that the man was the defense minister or advisor.

"Yes?" she hoped that Mattis had convinced Trump to send troops to help her. Saito's jaw almost dropped at hearing the name. He heard that the Secretary of Defense was a tough and fearless warrior that enjoyed war. If anyone could convince Trump to help Tristain, it was him!

"He's looking forward to recovering our soldier and wants arrangements done as fast as possible." the POTUS explained, "He also wishes to invite you to the soldier's funeral."

"Ah, I would be very honored to attend," the Princess replied, hiding her disappointment.

"M. Mattis thinks it would be good publicity for you and your Kingdom," Trump continued, "Our soldiers would certainly appreciate your presence and be thankful for your cooperation."

Louise suddenly piped up with an idea.

"Would it be possible for Old Osmond to attend this funeral?" she suggested, with both leaders looking at her curiously, "He was the man your soldier saved and is the current Headmaster of the Tristain Academy of Magic. He was grateful enough to have him buried on the crypt of the Academy." Both leaders looked at her and Louise could see that they liked what she told them.

"It is a high honour in our kingdom to be buried alongside the greatest minds that taught our nobility's youth."

Both men smiled in agreement.

"I don't see why not," Trump said, wandering off into his mind. This was an excellent coup for publicity and would shut any opposing voice.

Agnes was impressed as well. The Chevalier could understand what it meant for any soldier to see one of their fallen being returned for a proper burial. Henrietta could also see the reasoning behind this. A nation known for its military and excellent soldiers would appreciate such a gesture. If it meant increasing her chance to gain military allies, so be it.

"Furthermore, Secretary Mattis would like an idea of your weapons and their capabilities," Trump added, surprising everyone, even Trudeau, "That way, if we do move troops to support Tristain, we know what we're working. Could it be arranged for us to send some of our military experts in to observe?"

Henrietta gasped at this. Trump had changed his mind so quickly!

"We would be glad to welcome them!" She agreed immediately.

Saito and Louise nodded in agreement at the sudden but very generous proposal. Trudeau was glaring openly at Trump who brushed it off.

"This is not what we agreed to," he shot back, shock all over his face.

"M. Trudeau, the circumstances have changed," the American president answer back, "Mattis believes that the quicker we send some people, a small team mind you, through, the quicker we can confirm what are the threats to North America."

Trump turned back to Henrietta.

"Your Highness, the experts will be going in with the recovery team. We've made arrangements for them to leave quickly but would it possible for long term lodgings for our experts to stay in Tristain?"

"It would be possible for them to stay in the Royal Palace of Tristania until we find lodgings," she answered with a nod, "It is the most secure location in all of Tristain save for the Academy."

Agnes nodded in agreement.

"Yes, the palace is extremely well warded M. Trump and I am personally in charge of its guards."

Trump grinned at this proposal.

"I haven't heard such a brilliant proposal in a long time your Highness!" he praised with Trudeau still fuming at how the POTUS completely steered the discussion in his favour and out of the Canadian Prime Minister's control.

"We have a deal your Highness!" Trump scribbled down on a paper some orders.

"Very well then," Trudeau said through clenched teeth, "I would like to send a diplomat with this group however. I wish to show them that this is done with peaceful intentions."

"I have no objections to that M. Trudeau," Trump replied smugly, "What about you, your Highness?"

She shook her head.

"Such a move can only be beneficial," she replied warmly, "I see no issue."

"Very well then, M. Ambroise will be assigned as the representative since you have already worked with Princess Henrietta and Count Mott."

"I would be honored M. Prime Minister," he respectfully bowed his head, "Your Highness, I am very excited to visit your kingdom."

"The pleasure will be mine M. Ambroise."

Trump cleared his throat as he looked at Saito.

"There's also the issue of M. Hiraga Saito here."

Louise felt worried and looked at the American president in fear. Why did Saito matter so much all of sudden?

"W-what is the issue M. Trump?"

Trump looked at her with a dead serious look.

"I'm glad you asked milady. The issue is that M. Hiraga is a foreign citizen of one of our allies that has gone missing. We've already contacted their ambassadors and they want to meet you and M. Hiraga to discuss."

"This won't cause any issues between our countries, will it?" Henrietta asked with a hint of worry in her voice.

"The Japanese ambassador would like to have a word with you as well concerning the well-being of one of his citizens. I'm afraid I can't say more however since that is up to the Japanese; the matter is strictly between you and them, not us."

"I see."

* * *

The two North American leaders met afterwards to break down what had happened, although the mood was not pleasant at all; Trump's breakaway from consensus earlier in the conversation was the forefront reason.

"What was your idea back there?!" Trudeau demanded angrily, "This is going to escalate any tensions they have with that Reconquista group!"

Trump raised a placating hand.

"Look, these people aren't going to be able tell the difference between a soldier and a CIA Agent, even that Hiraga boy. This way we can get important data on their world immediately. We've needed to confirm it's all true still, and this is the perfect opportunity!" It suddenly made sense- Trump had more or less tricked the princess into allowing intelligence officials to legally enter her country by playing on her fears and hopes.

Trudeau's rant was silenced almost instantly but he still had a scowl on his face.

"I see your point Donald but you do remember that the portal is on Canadian soil. You've essentially forced me to authorize the passage of American troops over my territory!"

"Can you argue with the results?" Trump replied boastfully, "I had her give us everything we wanted on a silver platter!"

Trudeau massaged his temples. The president was right in his bragging. Results were there.

"Moving on," he sighed, "Did you think it was a good idea to let the Japanese deal with that boy?"

"A country has to look after its own citizens. That's not our business. The kid looks fine to me. Hell, he even got himself a nice girlfriend out of the whole thing judging by how that Lady Vallière's hanging off his belt." Trump casually explained before taking a more serious tone. "We have far more important business with these people than one kid."

The POTUS was right.

"Security arrangements will be delicate to say the least," Trudeau stated, "We are dealing with a kingdom that is a few centuries behind in terms of diplomatic customs."

There was simply a lot of things that had to be taken into account. Besides choosing personnel that would be able to function in such a backward, otherworldly environment, there was also the risk of infiltration from certain… unfriendly nations on Earth. Russia and China both came to the forefront. At least anyone hostile on the other side would stand out.

Trump rolled his eyes.

"They'll have to learn how to deal with us. We're the ones holding the big end of the stick."

No hesitation in his voice whatsoever. Trudeau pinched the bridge of his nose as he leaned in his chair.

"We also have to deal with the UN and the rest of the international community." The rest of the world would no doubt want to get in on this, for trade, discovery, or whatever other reason. And the man could already foresee the mess that would ensue in Montréal. The city was already a port city but turning it into an interdimensional gateway that would be running 24/7? That was a challenge to the island city's overloaded infrastructure not to mention a political nightmare in Quebec. Trudeau could already picture the Quebec nationalists maybe getting united again and issuing demands that would have to be juggled against the rest of Canada telling them to back down.

"Do we really want to go forward with a deal like this with so many changes in play?" Trudeau finally asked, "Once the cat is out of the box, there's no going back for anyone." All of Earth would change, and not just in the knowledge it held. Barring M. Hiraga, they could conceivably cut all ties now, just have both sides go to their respective ends of the portal and stay there for good.

Trump grunted and looked out the window, deeply in thought.

"I say we go forward. We've already gone this far and there's a lot of business opportunities," he said confidently, "What are the risks? Their scout almost froze to death just getting here and they fight with muskets at best."

Trudeau couldn't help but feel confident with this.

"There's also great possibilities for both our worlds," he finally said, "There are more than just business opportunities if this is true. There could be great scientific leaps forward and we would help a people move forward in time." He nodded. "Let's change the world, then."

* * *

Saito was a strange mixture of excited and nervous. Excited because he'd get a taste of home after so long- his own language and people when he'd thought for a time he'd never seen them again. But definitely nervous too, since he didn't know what would happen next.

He, Henrietta. and Louise had been waiting at Rideau Hall for the Japanese ambassador's arrival in the same room where they had met Trump and Trudeau earlier, both men having excused themselves. Glasses of water sat on the table in front of them, untouched. There was a tense silence that was disturbed only by the sound of a clock ticking in the background. Suddenly voices and steps could be heard in the hallway, muffled by the door. The door opened, revealing a man in his late 50's. A simple business suit, square glasses and well groomed greying black hair defined the aging man. He held a suitcase in one hand while his other hand was holding a pile of files.

The diplomat looked hurried, his expression marked by a frown. Saito didn't know it, but he'd caused people to scramble at all levels of his government. Japan was like a lot of the world at that moment- sitting back and watching what was happening without trying to get directly involved. _'Let America and Canada deal with it'_ , they thought. The two countries were wealthy enough and well armed enough to defend themselves. Saito had now thrusted his country into being a major party in this affair, although fortunately not publically. Yet.

The diplomat cleared his throat and stretched out his hand for a handshake with Saito shaking it.

"Greetings M. Hiraga, I am Ambassador Junchiro Arima," he greeted in Japanese before turning to Henrietta and Louise to shake theirs, "It is an honour to meet you both." He said in French.

He bowed his head respectfully at both nobles.

"It is our pleasure to meet you Ambassador Arima," Henrietta answered, bowing her head back.

"The feeling is mutual Ambassador Arima," Louise responded as well, trying to hide her nervosity at meeting an official from Saito's country.

"Thank you milady," Arima nodded respectfully to Louise, "Please let us begin. My government is, understandably, gravely concerned over this matter. Can you please clarify how this happened precisely?"

"Of course M. Arima," Henrietta set her scepter across her lap, but did not remove her hands from it, though doing so, hid how her fingers had tightened nervously around it, "First, I must state, that what did occur, has not been seen before as far as we've have investigated and the Headmaster, Old Osmond, of the Tristain Magic Academy had one of his best researchers spend several days pouring over every book, tome, scroll, and other literature in the academy's library as well as those found in the Royal Castle Library."

"And nothing was found again I assume?" the ambassador made some notes as he listened to Henrietta.

The American and Canadian reports were so far showed to be quite accurate. The princess was seemingly quite honest. But at the same time, she could a skillful actress or she could be in a position she just lie about without repercussions with the two North American nations.

"Yes," Henrietta nodded, "We were going to ask both Albion and Germania for information, should they have had any, but after Albion fell under the control of rebels and Germania ended our alliance, we had no way to learn if they knew of anything."

"I see," Arima could tell this was going to be an issue, "Now that we've established that you do not have prior records of this event, may we discuss the event in question and what it is precisely?"

"It is considered one of the most sacred and important rituals for a young mage to learn and perform," Henrietta began with a quiet sigh.

"The Ritual of Familiar Summoning or simply the Summoning Spell since there is little of a ritual anymore," Louise spoke immediately out of turn, but she also was the most learned in finer details and theory, "My apologies, but Your Highness, I am better learned in Magical Studies and Theory, and I was also the one to cast the spell in the first place."

"Oh?" Arima showed his surprise, "You were young lady?"

He already knew that from the reports, but nothing more than that. Now was the time to confirm those reports.

"Would it be alright if she spoke on your behalf then Your Highness?"

"I would be most appreciative if she would be allowed so," Henrietta responded with some relief, "Louise-Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière is indeed one of our finest minds when it comes to theory and study. Few are her peer within the student body to such knowledge and even some instructors have learned from her on occasion."

"Then this will go much quicker and with better understanding," Arima agrees wholeheartedly, if only because he needed to get onto what to do with Hiraga-san.

"Thank you," Louise curtised to the ambassador, before she began speaking, "The Summoning Spell is supposed to only summon a familiar who will be the life long partner of the Summoner. Normally they are bound, with unquestionably obedience, to their master, but they are also typically merely animals from as small as my fellow student, Montmorency Margarita La Fère de Montmorency's own summoned frog, Robin, to even what Saito has stated to be fantasy creatures for you, but are very real and respected creatures such as my classmate Tabitha's dragon, Sylphid, or my own mother's manticore, Camille."

Arima had to cough when he heard about a dragon and a manticore. While not much learned on mythology, anyone knew what a dragon was. To hear one be mentioned and even named, spoke much.

But it also pointed to something as well.

"Some of our literature that speak about dragons, give them great intelligence and sometimes peerless wisdom, especially in Asia where Japan is located," Arima explained, "I recall a faux pas by an American shoe company with one country when they fictionally showed a dragon being slain to sell their product some years ago."

Louise nodded in response, "There are such dragons, yes. I know of Sylphid being of some intelligence, but I do not know much. I have little to no direct involvement in dragons, but I have read that there are those who are more than merely large creatures and that some summoned dragons have shown very advanced intelligence in the past."

"I do not wish to be rude but wouldn't this summoning spell not bind such creatures as slaves to a human master?" Arima asked with great care and caution.

"Told ya so," Louise elbowed Saito for that and rolled her eyes in annoyance. Though Arima, reluctantly allowed it without protest. The boy had not only spoken out of turn and could have made things worse, but it showed something to him as well.

"By perhaps any definition, very much so," Louise stated, "We had not really considered it in recent years, perhaps decades I would hazard. Largely because the chances of summoning such intelligence creatures is very rare to begin with."

"And Hiraga-san is the first of his kind?" Arima pressed lightly, "What do you ask of him? Any other relationship that the familiars and masters appear to be slavery."

"Yes," Louise nodded, "When applied to a human, it would sound like slavery to be very honest. But it has also been noticed that, nearly all the time, if not all the time, Saito only follows my demands when it suits him. Otherwise he continues to exercise a strong sense of independence and choice in all matters,"

Louise could see Ambassador Arima make some notes.

"Much of the knowledge is lost but during the time of Founder Brimir, the legends said that he had a elven familiar that later betrayed and killed him."

The diplomat knew that myths were something that were unreliable at best, with much of their content warped by the passage of time.

"How old are these legends?"

"About 6000 years old," Louise answered, much to Arima's consternation. Extremely old legends were even less reliable.

"What do we know about this elven familiar?" the ambassador asked, not hoping for much.

"It is said that she had runes on her body and that she accompanied Founder Brimir during his travels. According to the written legends, the runes on Saito's hand might be the same as the Founder's familiar. Unfortunately, we don't know much else."

"I can understand" the ambassador nodded. The 6000 year time gap made research probably very difficult. However time was getting short for their meeting.

"This has been rather interesting," the ambassador, his tone changing, "What tasks do you ask of him though?"

"I tried to get him to clean my clothes and dress me."

Arima raised an eyebrow. That sounded like servant work.

"Tried milady?"

"We ended having a rather long quarrel over the subject."

Saito rolled his eyes at how mildly she put it. Said quarrel involved both parties getting sore throats, Louise getting her riding crop snapped and thrown out of the window, Saito a red mark on his cheek from the diminutive mage slapping him before both finally calmed down and started talking it out. As well as everyone on the same floor casting spells to muffle the sound of their shouting.

"I've been treated pretty well," Saito interjected seriously before the Japanese official could press any embarrassing questions, of which there were a few, "Arima-san, I have proper sleeping arrangements and I can get new clothes easily enough," Saito tugged at his jacket's collar, "I just prefer my own from home. Hopefully I can get a few more pairs to have soon."

"Of course!" Louise almost shouted, red faced, "Why wouldn't I make sure you are supplied with fresh clothes! Is it that you don't like them? I thought you liked my knitting!"

Arima witnessed Saito waving his hands furiously in front of himself and before the girl, "Not what I meant Louise!" his tone was a pitch higher, but it had all the makings of a boyfriend in sudden trouble. Just as the reports had said.

"Please you two," Henrietta injected firmly, "Calm down."

"Definitely leave them behind next time," muttered Agnes as she felt the migraine that she assumed that merchant, Trump, had felt as well.

"Thank you your Highness."

The two relaxed and calmed at the princess' words. Arima could see that the two had a relationship that went beyond Master and Slave judging by their antics. He was slightly uncomfortable with their demeanour. Asian culture, especially Japanese frowned on showing one's affections and emotions publicly. The ambassador presumed that Saito had picked some of the Tristainian customs during his time there.

"I apologize for my outburst," Louise looked embarrassed and red as she bowed apologetically.

"Yeah, totally my fault there, my apologies Arima-san," Saito rubbed the back of his neck, "We had assumed that when I was summoned, it had been a one way trip with no going home. This whole thing has been… Trying on both of us. The idea that my parents might be a phone call away has gotten me a little too excited at times."

Arima could understand the teenager's excitement. He had been separated from loved ones and now had a chance to contact them, perhaps even see them again.

"Would it be possible for me to contact my parents?" Saito asked excitedly, hope filtering through his voice. The ambassador nodded as he took notes.

"I believe it would be possible to set up a video call Hiraga-san though this might take a few hours given the 12 hours of difference between here and Tokyo."

"Thank you Arima-san!"

Arima could only smile inwardly in relief. The meeting had gone better than he thought so far. Saito hadn't been mistreated during his time in Halkeginia. The boy also seemed to be in a good psychological state and his health appeared to also be well cared for as well.

"What is going to happen to Saito now?" Louise asked fearfully. She hadn't dared ask that question during the meeting, fearing the answer. Her familiar looked at her anxiously as well.

"Well, to be honest with you Lady Vallière, I can't really say," Arima answered honestly, "This is the first time such a thing has happened for us. Had Hiraga-san been badly treated, we would have demanded his return but since he's looking well and happy with you, I am uncertain of what my government would want to do right now. At the same time, what happened to him is can be seen as abduction in our country and that is a severe crime. However, I do consider that this is more of an accident than anything since you didn't, from what I understand, intentionally take him from his home."

Both Louise and Saito looked at him desperately, not liking the answer so far.

"How old are you again Hiraga-san?" the ambassador remarked.

"I'm 17, Arima-san."

"Hmm, that would make for some complications," Arima admitted, honestly, he couldn't tell where this would head. "Like I said, this is not a crime as far I can tell. I believe that the Cabinet would think the same thing but they will probably review the evidence to confirm. Still, not a crime in my opinion but an accident."

"But it would be difficult to say that for certain," Henrietta showed that she may be inexperienced, but she would one day have that experience.

"Yes," Arima agreed, "What is Hiraga-san's standing in your nation at this time?"

"For now," Henrietta indicated Saito, "M. Hiraga is still considered merely Louise-Françoise's Familiar by many, but given his actions he does have some renown and I have made both Louise-Françoise and M. Hiraga both agents of the Crown, a position they have been well adept at performing, if the increase to the Royal Treasury and the decrease in criminal activity where they have been are any indications."

"I must admit surprise," Arima did look surprised, "Are they not a little young for such tasks?"

Holding a hand before her chest as she closed her eyes, Henrietta explained "I have few I can trust. If I am to have some idea to my nation's status, I need those I can trust not only as allies and friends, but as capable individuals as well."

She opened her eyes, pride beaming from them.

"He may be a familiar and Louise-Françoise considered a poor mage, but they make up for those limitations and I can trust them with tasks very important. In fact, it was M. Hiraga that saved her life after being they were tasked with delivering a message to my dear friend, Prince Wales of Albion. He saved her from a treasonous knight captain after the traitor had murdered the prince in cold blood."

Arima showed his shocked and surprise at that admission. To hear that Hiraga Saito had been sent on such dangerous missions and one that clearly was some kind of diplomatic mission of some kind. Yet the boy had survived and come back, clearly in good health from each, though from the grinding of the boy's teeth, that traitorous knight captain had made a lifelong enemy.

"What exactly is the nature of his work for your country, though?" He asked.

From what she'd just described, he was doing something akin to internal security. And 'an agent of the crown'?

It sounded like having a citizen of your country in a foreign security or intelligence force.

Arima only had a faint idea about the European-esque societies that apparently laid beyond that portal, but he knew politics was a nasty business, far nastier than it could get in their world. If word got out a Japanese citizen was involved in violent political activities, that would be a major scandal.

"Louise-Françoise and M. Saito have been helping me root out traitors and corrupt officials in my capital as well as recovering important documents that have allowed the Musketeer Corps to successfully destroy a number of brigand brigades and raid more than a few criminal dens."

"Not easy work," Saito admitted right there, "But it's pretty clear how complicated things are without policemen around to investigate and stop crimes."

"Police work!?" Arima sounded shocked, his face paling.

"Uh," Saito brought his hand up and wobbled it from side to side, "Yeah, something along the lines of Ghost in the Shell is the best way I can describe it."

"Anything particularly dangerous or requiring an overt response is handled by the Musketeer Corps," Louise quickly added, having seen Arima suddenly become agitated, "We mostly keep our eyes and ears open for any trouble."

Arima released a breath of relief. So what the two got was the light work. Important, especially since it was the capital of Tristain, but nowhere as dangerous as what could actually be given.

"I take it that the mission to see Prince Wales was simply an exception to the dangers they faced?" Arima inquired, not believing that Hiraga Saito was not in such danger.

"It…" Henrietta held herself briefly, "Unexpected, yes. It was a simple courier mission. Yes, one requiring subtlety and secrecy, but the addition of a traitor, who was supposed to lead the mission, made it a complete disaster."

"I had not expected Viscount Wardes to have been a traitor," Louise added, "We had long believed that he was a loyal servant of Tristain's Crown."

"It basically turned into a hostage situation. I had to do something." Saito explained.

"He saved my life." Louise added proudly.

"I see," the Japanese Ambassador concluded that the mission was the exception to the rule.

"I'm glad they escaped unharmed," Arima continued feeling more sure, "I'm surprised they were able to escape and evade a trained officer of your army though."

Henrietta immediately coughed into her hand again, before she explained, "M. Hiraga was the one to defeat him actually. His summoning granted him unusual abilities to understand and make use of any functional weapon he touches while increasing, how did he put it? Increasing his base stats, I believe it was. And when he, um, equips Derf, an ancient magical and talking sword, he is able to, er, um, tank enemy attacks and magical abilities in order to power through to engage them."

Arima just stared at the princess like she grew a second head before turning to Saito who was fidgeting a bit and had a sheepish look on his face. Of course, the boy must have used gamer speak. He made the princess sound foolish alright, which was more embarrassing for him than the princess.

"I have…" the ambassador trailed off briefly, "an idea of what he meant. So he ended up fighting this traitor?"

Henrietta was just glad she didn't have to try to explain more of what Saito had said to her. She barely understood what it meant.

"Yes. He fought and defeated not only him, but a small number of enemy agents with the traitor as well as a small group of Royalist knights that had been tricked into attacking him, but unlike the traitor and his men, M. Hiraga did not actually harm any of them and most have since arrived in Tristain seeking shelter after Reconquista's triumph."

"How bad did Hiraga-san hurt this traitor and his men?" Arima knew this was very bad. If the boy had actually killed someone, it would be a greater disaster. They'd never hear of the end of it and the boy would likely become a social outcast in Japan.

"None were killed unfortunately," Henrietta spat out the last word angrily, which showed she had strong feelings about what had happened, but with traitors, that was to be expected.

The princess had very strong emotions on the matter and it showed in her voice.

"I see now," Arima said a bit strongly, before he stopped and recovered his composure, "My country will take issue with the fact he had fought others, especially with regards to his age," Arima could see the princess's composure suddenly begin to fail, "But also, from the sounds of it, he conducted himself well and has been conducting himself respectfully."

Henrietta let out a breath of relief, before Arima straightened up a bit in his seat.

"In Japan, unlike the west, a young man performing such acts would be seriously ostracized by his peers and even elders," Arima could see Henrietta and the blond woman, Agnes, surprised, "But I can understand the circumstances. Hiraga-san was forced into fighting." he turned his attention to Saito, "As such, I will explain to our government the situation though we would like for you to be examined by psychologists to ensure no lasting issue stemming from what happened."

Henrietta's education in etiquette was the only thing keeping her from slumping in her seat in relief. A word in his sentence intrigued her.

"What is a psychologist?" she blinked.

"A…type of mind healer. They are usually in charge of making sure that our people's minds are sound, especially after traumatic situations."

"I can understand why you would wish for him to see one," Henrietta replied, understanding in her voice.

"Please, I wish for him to be seen by your psy-cho-logist," Louise added, blushing, "He means a lot to me and I do not want him to be unwell in mind or body."

"Thanks Louise. Never thought you'd say that," he joked before she glared at him, still embarrassed.

"Agreed," Arima nodded his head while groaning inwardly at their antics, "I will speak with my government to advance our communications and see this matter through."

"And M. Hiraga's request?" Henrietta would never deny Saito his request to at least speak to his family.

"We'll see what can be done about a visit, but video chat is a wonderful thing of communications that has been developed by our world," Arima smiled happily, "We can easily arrange for him to communicate with his family easily enough. It will be done by tomorrow."

* * *

After a short but pleasant diner with Prime Minister Trudeau and President Trump, Princess Henrietta was led by the two men to a reception hall where reporters from all over the world were awaiting them.

During the dinner, both men tried to coach Tristain's heiress before she would face the press as well as explaining the function of a microphone. With very differing advice. Trudeau's advice and tips was to show a friendly, open facade while Trump was to show a strong one that would dominate any opponent. The princess thought that both men had façades that went along with their personalities.

Much to Trump's chagrin, Trudeau remarked that Henrietta's appearance and demeanour was rather unsuited for the American's way of expression. As the three leaders entered a reception hall and made their way to a podium, cameras turned on and flashes began to appear. News commentators everywhere began to speak about this historical moment. Trudeau was the first speak as Canada was where the talks had taken place.

"It is my pleasure as Prime Minister of Canada to introduce her Highness and heir apparent to the Blessed Water Throne of Tristain, Princess Henrietta de Tristain, to our world. President Trump and I have had the pleasure of speaking with her today. She has proven to be a very smart, young woman that seeks peace and understanding between our worlds. On behalf of the people of Canada, I look forward to working with her and her people to bring progress to both our nations as well as the United States."

As he spoke, his tone was firm but polite. His hands and body barely moved while his eyes looked into each camera that he saw. This was a man that did not need to raise his voice to impose his presence.

"I will now let President Trump speak."

The American president stomped up to the podium with each step conveying might and power that bordered arrogance. He cleared his throat.

"Thank you M. Trudeau," he said before turning to the cameras, "Today I have had the pleasure of speaking with a very intelligent young woman with the name of Princess Henrietta. Her very wise decisions that she has taken today will bring great prosperity to our three nations of which the likes have never been seen before! I believe that never in the history of Humanity has such talks have brought forth such great potential and I am quite happy to have taken part in them!"

His voice was far more boastful than Trudeau. He also waved his hands and moved his whole body rather than just his head to face the cameras as to impose his presence.

"I now have the pleasure of introducing her Highness, Princess Henrietta de Tristain!"

Henrietta nodded and walked towards the podium. She had already spoken before her subjects but speaking to an entire world that was completely different from Halkeginia was a whole other thing. Clearing her throat nervously, she began to speak as Earth held its collective breath.

"Thank you President Trump and Prime Minister Trudeau for holding such talks with me. I have never had the chance to talk to such powerful yet reasonable and honest leaders. I look forward to opening more discussions with them as well as other rulers of your world so that as many nations as possible may enjoy trade and gain great wealth both in resources and knowledge."

She kept her tone steady and thanked years of etiquette training for giving her composure in front of such a foreign crowd.

"Furthermore, I look forward to dealing with other great leaders on Earth. I can only see great things to come from this. I thank you for this opportunity and look forward for future talks."

Before she could exit the stage, reporters began to barrage her with questions, catching the young princess off guard.

"What is your world like?"

"How old are you?"

"Are those unicorns real?"

But before she could answer anything, Trump moved her out of the way and took her place behind the podium. Henrietta was behind the man.

"Her Highness, Princess Henrietta will not answer any questions!" he declared much to the shock of many reporters before Trudeau moved in to help salvage the situation.

"She is still unused to how our medias work. This is uncomfortable for her so please show her some leniency for the time being."

"Excuse me, but may I speak to the media one more time?" she asked in a whisper over the sound of the protesting reporters. Trump and Trudeau looked at each other before the Prime Minister nodded and made a sign for her to to do so. She cleared her throat.

"I wish to apologize for cutting this exchange short but I still have much to learn about how your media works but I promise that I will return."

This seemed to have calmed the reporters.

* * *

Not everyone on Social media seemed to like the answer. Accusations of Princess Henrietta being a puppet to American and Canadian interests popped up all over the Internet both from certain governments to various political groups. Some still remained skeptical as well still not believing how this was not a monumental farce.

Others understood Trump and Trudeau's reasoning but expected more coming from the Princess in the future. Some had growing optimism as well while others began to wonder how could they benefit from dealing with Henrietta and her world.

In the end, only time would tell how things would go for both worlds.

"Thank you, your Excellency," Louise said as she bowed in respect to Julie Payette.

"It's no trouble Lady Vallière, I hope you enjoy your stay here in Rideau Hall." The governor-general then turned her head to to Saito who was looking at her in awe. It wasn't any day that one met a former astronaut.

"If you need anything, there's a phone connected to room service M. Hiraga and the menu is next to the phone. I expect you to show how things work here to her Highness and Lady Vallière," she said as she left the room.

"Thank you, your Excellency!"

Saito grinned from side to side. He was finally reunited with many of his favorite creature comforts. Meanwhile, Louise was looking around at many of the strange devices that Earth had in curiosity. The lights had been turned on as the sun had gone down early.

"Are you still hungry Louise?" he asked excitedly as he made ihs way to the phone and menu that sat on a bedside table. He hoped they had his favorite food, Teriyaki burgers.

"After that feast? I couldn't eat for another week!" she exclaimed as she sat down on a bed. She saw a strange dark mirror with her reflection staring back at her.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing at the TV. Saito looked at it, his eyes misty from longing.

"That, Louise, is a television! One of the greatest inventions ever made by mankind on Earth!"

Louise looked at it skeptically. It looked rather simple and unassuming.

"What does it do exactly?"

"Remember those 'plays' I told you about?" Saito replied excitedly.

"That's what your world uses to show them?!" she gasped, "What kind of plays do you have?

"We've got all kinds of channels." Saito started to list off ones that came to mind randomly. "Sports, news, weather, uhhh…well, these channels pay people to make plays they can show. So that more people watch their channel."

"Channel?"

"It's like...umm…" Saito was at a loss on how to explain it. "Let me show you!"

He grabbed a remote and began pressing buttons on it. Louise was amazed when the mirror was suddenly filled with light and was then filled with what she could only describe as moving pictures.

"So… euh what do you want to watch?" Saito asked as he sat next to Louise.

"What kind of plays does this have?" Something flashed in her mind, "What about that play about the warrior O'Neill and his knights?"

"Sure!"

Saito wondered if that show was still being broadcasted on TV as he and Louise cuddled each other.

In the hallway outside, Agnes and her troops were giving some people a fright. The Musketeer Captain was taking the Princess' security seriously, as she should. Even after this productive day she was still weary of this world and its peoples. There were guards in front of the door and at each end of the hall. Needless to say, the few people still in the building that late were more than a little surprised to see women in medieval armor standing around.

She heard a series of footsteps and recognized Princess Henrietta and M. Trudeau. Both were walking down the hallways escorted by men in dark and white clothes. It still made her uneasy that these men didn't carry any weapons on them while guarding such important people.

"Thank you M. Trudeau for your advice. I shall put it to good use next time I face your press."

"It is only natural that I help those who need it," he replied in a warm tone. "We're almost at the suite you'll be staying in."

"I have one last question for you though before we leave."

"Yes?"

"Where have you learn to speak in such a way before a crowd?"

Trudeau seemed to take a rather nostalgic look on his face."

"Ah, I was a teacher once and I use to teach Drama amongst other things."

That stunned Henrietta. A drama teacher had become a Prime Minister? It was unheard of in Halkeginia. At the same time, it explained how easy it was for him to speak in front of such an intimidating thing that was the media.

"I can see why you are good with your media."

"Thank you and please have a good night. I must return to my family for the night," Trudeau said before bowing. At the same time, one of his guards was talking to Agnes in a rather irritated tone.

"Please Captain Agnes, tell your guards that they can rest easy and that they can let us handle security!" he said, a fed-up expression apparent on his face.

"How do you expect us to rest easily?" she retorted, "We are in a foreign palace in a world that is utterly different from ours!"

The Musketeer threw a glance at the Canadian guards.

"You also do not carry any weapons on you! How can you be so callous around your Prime Minister as well as the Princess!?"

The guard merely opened his vest, revealing what seemed to be a black device hanging on his side. It looked like a very large pistol though Agnes never saw such a design. There was no visible flintlock or ramrod on it.

"Does this reassure you?" he asked flatly. Agnes quickly nodded, wishing that she could try the weapon and test its capabilities. She was impressed they could hide it on their person without seeming too obvious. Impressed- and a little concerned. Any assassin could do the same.

"I have complete faith in M. Trudeau's guards so please rest you and your Musketeers, Agnes," Henrietta ordered before she and Trudeau bid each other a good night.

Agnes led the Princess into the suite where she could voices that she couldn't recognize mixed with two very familiar ones.

"Why can't you find it Saito?" Louise asked impatiently as she saw the Princess enter the room, "Your Highness!"

Saito was still furiously scrolling through the channels, wishing he could find a channel showing Stargate SG-1. Meanwhile, Agnes was being led to another suite for her Musketeers.

"Well it was an old series so they might not show it!"

Henrietta looked at him curiously.

"What is M. Saito doing?"

"He's trying to find a play he wanted to show-"

Louise was suddenly interrupted by a loud moan of pleasure. Turning her head towards the source, she a blushing Saito looking at the TV… where a naked woman was having a very good time with a man.

"Your Highness!" the pinkette yelled as she leapt towards an oblivious Henrietta to cover her eyes, "Your eyes and ears shouldn't witness such debauchery!"

Glaring at the Tokyo teen fumbling with the remote, she shouted a familiar cry whenever Saito accidentally invaded her privacy.

"SAITO YOU PERVERT!"

 **Author's endnote: And that's how day one ends for the Tristainians in Canada! So far, things are going pretty well eh? I initially wanted to have Saito contact his parents in this chapter but the time zones make it impossible to happen without prior arrangements. Especially in terms of security… after all, Saito's presence in Halkeginia is only known to a few right now...**

 **Trivia-wise, the agent's gun is an MP5A3. Rideau Hall is a rather versatile building. Government office, place to receive foreign dignitaries, home to the Governor-General of Canada, art museum and a place to allow ViP's to stay at. Practical eh?**

 **Harems… fuck that bullshit. Can it with the demands. Want that? Go write your own fic! No one in real life on Earth would recognize any wedding between Saito/Henrietta/Tabitha and no one would help them simply on that basis. There's a good chance that we'd laugh at him for asking for help on that basis only.**


	6. Chapter 5: A New Day

**Disclaimer: FoZ/ZnT belong to the departed Noboru Yamaguchi and whoever inherited the I.P.. Any real life organisation/person is merely being used in a fictional non-profit way.**

 **Author's note: Here you go guys! Sorry about the delay. Got into Witcher III and Shokugeki no Soma which, along with my job, messed up my writing schedules. Special thanks to Trainalf and F-14 Tomcatlover for their help in this chapter. Ending Saito's conversation with his parents wouldn't have been possible without Tomcat's help.**

 **A New Day?**

"He did what?!" There'd been optimism yesterday among the leaders of the three nations over potential interaction between their nations. Today though, among this new crowd, feelings were very mixed.

A series of groans echoed inside Trudeau's office as Minister Freeland calmed herself down after her outburst. Trudeau was having an early morning meeting with his cabinet to discuss yesterday's meeting- and if there was any change in their approach.

"Yes, he got the Princess to agree to allow intelligence officials to enter her country," Trudeau stated, "Along with military personnel to analyze their armed forces' capabilities without warning us."

"And forced us into allowing him to let his troops pass over our territory outside of our usual agreements," Freeland completed, massaging her temples, "That man played us like a fiddle."

"I hate to say it but it's a good move on his part," Sajjan admitted with Goodale nodding in agreement, "We can get detailed intel quickly and confirm if there's no invasion force."

"Can we get experts and officials ready for this party on such short notice?" Trudeau asked. Goodale nodded as he looked through a stack of files.

"CSIS has a few agents that available to be send through. Multilingual- it isn't much a stretch to think we'll hear other European languages over there besides French and English. Probably some offshoot of German if Germania is really their version of Germany. Possibly Italian too, since their church seems oddly similar to the one founded in Rome. We'll make sure that they'll blend in easily."

"Not a very diverse society over there, apparently." Freeland commented, although they seemed to have their own brand of quite literal racism judging by this talk of elves.

"This was Jim Mattis' idea, at least," Sajjan reminded everyone before continuing. That tidbit of knowledge made it just a slightly less bitter pill to swallow, as they knew they could at least trust the American SecDef.

"Let's try and find some military officers with experience in civil conflict to send with them. No need to make ourselves look foolish."

Everyone else agreed with that idea.

"I believe that sending Afghan war veterans who worked with the ANA and the Afghan government would be our best bet. If they can deal with tribal warlords, local feudal lords similar to old Europe wouldn't be too hard or different."

"They're going to need protection. It's not a combat deployment of our forces, but it'll still cause a stir in Parliament and the media if we don't take precautions." Trudeau remarked, "That can look extremely bad in the UN. M. Ambroise is already going so he's going to require security as well."

"We can arrange for elements of JTF2 to assist. It'll be a statement to both Tristain and Trump." Unsurprisingly, the man's bragging of America's military dominance over North America had been received as slightly insulting by the Defense Minister and Afghan war veteran. Sending Canada's elite special forces was a good way to show that they meant business and they were also the best bet against any surprises that might crop up. "We'll have it set up soon. The US may have gotten a head start yesterday, but they still need time to travel." Sajjan said, "I can make a phone call to Major-General Dawe to get his men ready."

"Do that now please Harjit." Trudeau ordered, "What about communications?" Obviously, secure phone lines or internet connections were out of the question. Radio as well. At least, between the worlds.

"I may have a suggestion- once we prove it's safe to traverse this portal, we can send someone through daily to make a long distance call, maybe set up a system of some kind to allow communications. I have no idea how far away their Capital is from the portal, but I'm sure we have means of covering that distance. For once, we won't have to worry about interference or espionage."

There was some chuckling. That was always appreciated.

"Thank you Harjit. What about our border security right now?"

Trudeau looked at Goodale and Freeland. Ever since the talks had begun, reporters from all over Earth were swarming to Canada, trying to get in on the action and sell the best headlines. But only a fool would believe that every single person who'd come was only that.

"Counter-intelligence has been cooperating with the police to monitor the crowds," Goodale reported, "The usual suspects and places are under watch as well."

Trudeau nodded. This was excellent news.

"Our allies have already sent us pledge to support us and help us if anything happens or if they catch wind of anything," Freeland added, "Some have already asked us if they can send people to meet with Tristain's representatives."

Trudeau nodded.

"We'll get to that eventually; the Princess can't stay here forever. Right now we need confirm what's going on over there."

"If I may Justin, what do you intend to discuss with the Princess today?" Freeland asked politely.

"I'll tell her that we'll send in military experts as well with the US. This'll probably get her hopes up again, but it's necessary. Trump's gotten us by surprise and tied our hands." he answered, "I'm also preparing a declaration of goodwill between our three nations. Obviously we can't get anything more substantial than that without running it through Parliament but it's better than nothing."

Goodale chuckled.

"Good thing we control Parliament eh?"

* * *

Saito awoke with a groan. Last night had ended with a barrage of anger from Louise that almost reminded him of his first days in that world. Mostly a very loud scolding about his perversions defiling a pure and innocent princess's eyes. Unfortunately, he ended up sleeping on the couch, despite finally convincing Louise and Henrietta it had been an honest mistake. Still, it felt good to sleep on Earth and the couch wasn't that bad. The trio was sleeping inside a suite meant for dignitaries afterall.

Louise was still snoring softly on her bed while Henrietta was in a separate room. The pinkette was sleeping in her nightgown. A soft knock on the door caught Saito's attention.

"Good morning? Is anyone awake?" a female voice asked softly. The teenager quickly made his way to the door and opened it. A woman dressed in a suit was waiting at the door.

"M. Hiraga?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"The Japanese embassy has just called," she said, "They've managed to get in contact with your parents." Saito was instantly wide awake.

"Really?!"

"Yes. We've been instructed to take you and Lady Vallière to the Japanese embassy before bringing you back for breakfast with M. Trudeau and M. Trump. Would it be possible for you to get ready?"

"Oh, uh...of course!" Saito's head was still spinning. His parents! After all these months! "We just need a few minutes to get ready." He explained. That and leave a note for the Princess in case this dragged on long. He ran to a still sleeping Louise's side. The mage was adorable when she slept and she seemed to mumble in her sleep.

"S-saito."

There was a small smile on her face.

"Hey wake up sleepyhead!" he muttered into her ear.

"Don't wanna."

She rolled away. Saito rolled his eyes. Time to use the secret technique.

"You're drooling all over the pillow. Again," he whispered again. As he finished those words made her wake up, red as a tomato.

"AM NOT!" she shrieked as she wiped her face with her hand before glaring at a smirking Saito, "Wha-what did you do that for?!"

"Cause you're adorable to tease."

"Dummy," she scowled half-heartedly, a pout on her face, "I was having a very nice dream," But seriously, are we late for breakfast with M. Trudeau and M. Trump?"

Saito shook his head. "Actually, it's about my home."

Louise's face lit up as she saw his face beam.

"Did you get to talk to your parents?!"

Saito shook his head as he replied.

"Not yet, but Arima-san has arranged everything for me to talk to them. We need to get ready, though!"

* * *

Inside a secured office in Japan, two middle-aged adults were sitting. They had been picked up by government agents earlier in the evening and told to come along without explanation. They had arrived at a governmental building that was largely empty. A man dressed in a simple suit entered the room with a briefcase.

"Good evening. Are you Hiraga Ichika and Hiraga Naru?" he asked quickly.

"Yes, now tell me what's going on." Naru retorted impatiently. Instead, the man asked another question.

"You are the parents of Hiraga Saito?" Both looked startled. They hadn't thought this could be about him; they'd talked to the police and the police had talked to them many times, but these men hadn't looked like the police.

"Yes, though I can't see why is that-" Ichika gasped in shock, "Did you find him?!"

"Is my son alive?!" Nasu almost shouted. To his credit, the official didn't flinch at the angry woman's yelling.

"Dear, please calm down!" Ichika begged before apologizing to the agent, "My apologies, my wife is rather quite protective of our son."

"I understand." The agent said. "But to answer your questions, yes. We have found your son, but, I'm afraid, the matter is… rather complex." He explained.

His words, though, were quickly misunderstood.

"Is he dead?!" Nasu's eyes began to water as she slumped back into her chair, "Where did you find him?!"

Ichika wrapped his arms around his wife's back.

The agent was quick to make placating gestures to calm the pair, "You don't need to worry. He is alive and in good health," the agent said quickly in the first slip of composure they'd seen from him. Despite her short size, her yelling had caused him to backpedal a bit. Then he went off on about as far a tangent as they could've guessed. "Have you been keeping up with the events in Canada?"

"That mysterious portal? Sounds like something out of a movie," Ichika scoffed. He had heard about the commotion it caused from his older son, Hayate. "Why? What does this have to do with my second son?"

"We've found him and that is where things have become complicated," the agent stated again, "It has been quite complicated and we're still getting all the relative facts, but your son, Hiraga Saito…" the man trailed off for a moment, clearly trying to find a way to break the news until he just gave up, "He was on the other side of the portal."

His words dumbfounded them. Hiraga Ichika and his wife Naru could only look at the agent before them like he grown a second head or was completely drunk. But the nervousness the man displayed seemed to counteract that process of thought.

"Is...is this some sort of sick joke?!" Naru growled angrily at the man. The loss of her youngest son had been hard enough on her. She didn't need people taking advantage of her grief for their own sick and twisted humor. She stood up and was about to slap the man but he spoke up before she could swing.

"I assure you that I am not," the agent slid a large photograph that clearly showed their son with a pink haired foreign girl in some room and a pair of government agents questioning them, "He is your son, is he not?"

He got a pair of dumbfounded nods while Naru slid back into her chair, slightly embarrassed.

"However," the agent continued, "the…" he paused again, "delicate nature of the present situation makes things difficult."

"What was he doing over there? How did he get over there?" They were shooting off questions at the man.

"Like I said, the situation is complex and we still have trouble understanding exactly what transpired, but your son is alive and well. We brought you here so you could speak to him."

"He's here?!" The boy's mother jumped from her seat.

"Now calm down dear," her husband said, "I think there's a catch."

"Correct Hiraga-san, as your son is still in Canada," the agent explained calmly, "We have arranged for secure communications between here and our main Embassy compound in Canada. Before we let you through, I have to make something expressly clear to you- this is still a very confidential matter. You cannot tell other people about this. If it's known that Japan is involved in the events in Canada right now- or if it's known your family is involved in them- the consequences could be… undesirable to say the least, politically and diplomatically. This situation is very delicate in the extreme that has the Canadians and Americans stepping lightly and we know how boorish President Trump can be, so that should tell you how delicate this matter is."

"You have our word," Ichika said confidently, wondering if he wasn't dreaming or stuck in a bad movie. Nasu nodded as well.

"Excellent." The agent opened his briefcase and pulled out a laptop before setting it up. After a few moments, the man turned his computer to them.

There was a moment of silence as the family finally saw each other again over video conference. Saito noticed how his parents seemed to be older than he remembered. He couldn't see his brother but he was always busy. Dark circles and wrinkles had appeared on their faces that he didn't see before.

" _M-mom? D-dad?"_

There was suddenly crying.

"Saito… my beautiful baby boy," Nasu cried, "I can't believe you're alive."

She had feared the worst many times. Saito being found dead in a ditch or in Aokigahara forest or washed up on a river bank.

"Is is really you son?" his father asked tearfully, "I can't believe it."

" _Y-yeah, it's me dad,"_ he replied with a scratched to the back of his head and that large smile he never could get rid of when he was nervous, _"I'm alright if you want to know."_

"Young man, I want to know what happened exactly," his mother asked sternly despite the tears in her face, "Tell me how you ended in another world?"

Saito gulped nervously and scratched the back of his head. His mom had… a quick temper to say the least. Maybe that was part of his attraction to Louise? He hoped not!

" _Well, it's not very complicated butIsteppedintoamagicalportal…"_

"You did _what_?" his mother asked barely understanding the jumbled ending of his sentence.

" _I-I stepped into a magical portal,"_ he stammered out, _"and ended up in some magical world."_

Ichika groaned.

"Son, I thought I raised you better than this. With all the anime we've watched together… don't you understand it's a bad idea to muddle around with strange portals?" he joked, trying to defuse the tension.

His son looked rather sheepish.

"Wait!" Ichika blinked, "You're being serious. You can't be serious. That's all make believe!"

" _Ah-haha,"_ Saito's nervous laugh didn't help ease his parents' stress, _"I, er, might have found that out to be not so true dad."_

"By all the Kami and Buddha," Ichika began massaging his temples to stop the migraine that threatened to open up his skull.

"Really dear?" Nasu added dryly, glaring at her husband who cowered slightly, forgetting his migraine for the moment, before the woman turned back to her second son, "Can you tell me what happened to you once you went into that portal, Saito?"

Saito was silent for a moment. Though, he was not well versed in hiding his emotions. He was quite fidgety for a few moments before he turned his head.

" _Well,"_ he began, _"can you come over here Louise?"_

" _What?"_ what sounded something like a girl's voice was heard.

" _Get on my lap, I'll show you my parents."_

Ichika and Nasu looked at each other, startled. Their son was speaking in other language that sounded like French. Not to mention that the other voice sounded definitely like a girl's.

" _Eh?!"_

That was definitely feminine. Both parents turned to look at one another. Ichika mouthed 'No way' to his wife.

Suddenly, a short, _pink haired_ girl appeared on their screen in front of their son and sat on his lap. With a black cloak held by a golden medallion and a white shirt as well as what seemed to be natural pink hair, she dressed like the stereotypical anime magical girl and appeared to be rather confused at everything.

" _Saito, what is this magic?"_

" _It's not magic, it's a computer."_

" _A what?"_

" _A very useful device that lets me do lots of things like talking with my parents,"_ he explained quickly before turning his attention to his parents.

Both of them couldn't understand what Saito was telling the pink haired girl.

"Mom, Dad, this is Louise-Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière of Tristain. She's my girlfriend that I made over there." he said proudly before hearing a slapping sound. Looking at the screen, he saw his dad facepalming. His mom was seething on the other hand and he realized, he could have said that better or left it for later.

"You went to a new world _just to get a girlfriend_?!" His mother sounded outraged, "You have a lot of explaining to do young man!"

" _Well, I heard her voice when I was around that portal but it's not exactly that."_ Saito tried to explain quickly while his mother looked even angrier, _"When I came out of that portal, she was in front of me."_

"I'm not sure if I should laugh or be angry at this son," Ichika was leaning back into his chair, trying to make sense of everything. Was he stuck in some bad anime? "What exactly did you do over there?"

" _Well…"_ If the diplomat hadn't reacted so well, Saito wasn't sure how his parents would. _"I got a job."_ That wasn't technically a lie. Unfortunately for him, Louise had to start running her mouth and bragging. Saito praised the greater powers that his parents didn't understand her.

" _Your son is the greatest hero I ever met! You should have seen how he fought a foul man that tried to force me to marry him! He saved our lives several times like when he killed an Earth Golem that was attacking me and has been a great help to Tristain."_

"What is she saying?!" she snarled noticing the generous amount of praise, which surprised Louise and ended her what she was saying, "That sounds like you have a lot more to explain young man!"

" _She's talking about what we've been doing over here together since I arrived."_ Saito explained quickly, hoping it would satisfy his mother. _"It's sorta…of police work...over here...I guess?"_ Saito faltered in explanation while Louise looked confused.

"Police work?" Nasu's voice was deadly quiet which meant that Saito had to come up with an explanation and fast.

" _Euh yeah, we euh helped the Princess stop a corrupt official."_

"Princess? How did you that?" Ichika asked uncertainty and had a feeling he knew where this was going to go.

" _We caught him redhanded trying to steal from a bar."_

Just as Ichika thought with a mental groan.

"Care to tell me how?" his mother pressed on through clenched teeth, Naru's appearance reminding Louise of her sister or worse… Her own mother.

" _We were there at the right time, right moment?"_ Saito tried to make it sound more innocent, but it was obviously a lost cause.

Both of his parents groaned. They weren't sure which was worst- that their son had been in a bar with a girl, or that he was apparently doing police work. He was too young for all of that. To say nothing of his girlfriend!

"At least he's safe," his dad sighed while his mom was glaring at him and was clearly unimpressed, "He hasn't been getting into battles or anything."

"How have you been living there?" she asked seriously.

" _Well I've been staying with Louise at the Tristain Academy of Magic. She's given me a place to stay,"_ he explained not thinking anything serious about it.

" _What did she ask?"_ Louise asked Saito, wondering what was going on with Saito's mother.

" _Where I was staying in Tristain,"_ Saito responded, not too concerned.

His mother's blue eyes narrowed.

"Staying with Louise? As in the same room?"

Saito's eyes widened in fear. He suddenly remembered how his mother had been very strict about things like that. She lived heavily by the saying that 'A boy of nine sits with no woman.'

" _Of course, I've given him the privilege of sleeping in the same room as me! He is my familiar after all!"_ Louise explained happily, _"He has my gratitude for all the things he did for me even if he acts like a dog every now and then!"_

Nasu's eye twitched as she had to listen to the girl's strange ramblings again. She noticed the rather appreciative tone of voice.

"What did she say?" She demanded from her son who was flushing even redder, "Don't tell you two have been-"

" _No mom! We haven't done-"_

" _What did your mom ask?"_

" _No-nothing! Just if we-"_

Louise suddenly blushed redder before glaring at Saito.

" _Did she ask if you were being perverted with me?!"_

" _No!"_ Saito was started to get extremely pressured. What was it with him and short tempered women? Maybe it was a family thing? Fortunately for him, his dad changed the direction of the conversation, although not without placating his wife first.

"Dear, this is the first time we see Saito in months..."

Nasu pouted as Saito blew a sigh of relief. His mother quickly calmed down a bit as well.

"Son, please come back to us," his dad begged, "It's been getting lonelier ever since Hayate left."

This surprised the Tokyo teen. His brother had left? When? How? Why?

" _What happened to him?"_ Saito asked suddenly. His older brother was always the kind of guy that could spare him time whenever he could despite his busy schedule.

"He left to study abroad in Canada remember?"

There was a brief moment of silence from both parties. Apparently that little tidbit had been overlooked. The agents on both sides were already communicating with their superiors about it, who would then contact the Canadians about it as well.

" _Wait! Where is he in Canada?!"_ Saito suddenly exclaimed, startling Louise. He had forgotten that little detail.

"He's in Montreal right now!" Nasu exclaimed in surprise, "Haven't you tried to contact him?!"

Saito fumbled a bit as he stammered an answer.

" _Well, we've been busy. I've been interrogated by secret agents of two countries and I had to help Princess Henrietta negotiate with President Trump and Prime Minister Trudeau!''_

"Wait _what_!?"

All color drained from Ichika's face. His son was helping that fantasy princess negotiate with two of the most powerful men on Earth!

"This feels like a bad anime," he muttered to himself before elbowed by his wife.

"Ichika… focus!" she barked before turning back to Saito with a sad expression, "Now Saito, I want you to come home. You shouldn't be doing all of this."

This was the moment he dread the most. Even Louise noticed the sudden change in tone. There was a unnerving silence in the rooms.

" _I'm sorry, but no mom, I can't,"_ he finally said with a firm look of determination on his face, _"I've been doing alot of good over here, over there, and now I found a nice girl and things are_ still _not over."_

"But Saito, you're not even an adult yet!" his father desperately replied, "You haven't even finished school of all things! How can you help that princess?"

Saito's mind raced as he tried to say something that he did.

" _Well,"_ Saito scratched the back of his neck, _"I kinda convinced President Trump that Halkeginia would make a nice tourist place,"_ which honestly he wondered how hard that was, _"Prime Minister Trudeau was also convinced that there was no threat of an invasion. Not to mention that I convinced the Princess to come and negotiate over the objections of her Regency Council, including even her own mother."_

His parents were stunned that Saito pulled this off. It didn't seem that he was lying. If anything, he showed that a quiet confidence they had never seen in him before. Like he had gone through a momentum change when he was gone. He seemed to have found something over there.

"How exactly did you do that young man?" Naru found her voice as Ichika had a _very_ good idea of where things would go.

And feverishly hoped his son wouldn't mention it to his wife as Ichika knew Naru would make him go several weeks without even a manga!

" _I told them about how Canada and the United States were respected countries in our world,"_ he explained quickly, sparing the embarrassing moment when it turned out his 'knowledge' was wrong, _"The Princess's kingdom needed help so I thought it would help her. They're really struggling over there and I've managed to do some good there."_

' _No doubt,'_ thought Ichika as he eyed the girl on his son's lap and how she seemed worried, _'Probably Section Nine-like police work, right son? If so, how much have you seen? What have you done? And where does this girl stand in all of that?'_

"Well, for one, I think you've done enough," Nasu scolded, "So come home now, you've done enough. Leave it to the Americans and Canadians. It's their matter now."

" _I can't mom,"_ Saito replied, but then held a hand up to forestall her protests, surprising both of his parents by calmly doing so in the first place, _"I feel that I belong here. Louise is the best thing that happened to me. I also made some new friends and I can't just leave them like that either. I did so much already to help them. She's serious about me as well. She almost dueled her oldest sister over this and even the Princess helped us out. I can't just throw that out. Mom, dad, I want to keep helping out in that world. I'm also staying at an academy for nobles, so I'm learning things and I can be sent what is needed for me to learn by MEXT to keep up on my Japanese education."_

"Saito…" Naru couldn't believe her son could _even_ think that! Let alone say it. Why wasn't he listening to her, like he always had?

"Son," Ichika knew how dangerous this would be, but he had to ask, " 'Your police work'," now that brought back the memories of what he wanted to do when he was Saito's age, "Is your work more like Section Nine work?"

Saito was silent for a moment, his mother showing a confused look on her face, but the young Hiraga answered.

" _Yes,"_ Saito confirmed, _"We were starting to investigate that official we caught, but he ended up committing his crimes right in front of us as soon as we got started. It was quick and to the point. Louise was more powerful, given her family's standing in Tristain, and so we arrested him on the spot."_

" _After that, we've done a few more things like that. Louise and I only investigate, but yeah. I got into a few fights over there."_

"FIGHTS?!" Naru's face is drained of blood at hearing that, "What have you done?!"

" _Yes mom, nothing too big though,"_ Saito swallowed hard, _"I can't believe how lucky I was to be born in Japan. There's so many things we take for granted, "_ Saito closed his eyes, thinking of his world and how safe it was.

" _But,"_ he opened his eyes, to see his parents _._ Louise couldn't help but feel Saito's sincerity radiating from his heart as he spoke. Each word, even if she couldn't understand them, carried great emotion.

" _Here well… There's no one to save the day. The princess does her best but the corrupt nobles don't want to help. If it wasn't for me, the meetings between her, President Trump and Prime Minister Trudeau wouldn't be happening right now. I'm also doing some real good now, acting on the princess' behalf and that good will help keep Canada safe and if Canada is safe, then Hayate is safe and Japan is safe and you're safe too! By being the police detective over there, I can help save people and make a world a better place. One sting operation at a time, but isn't that how our police think? Isn't that how Uncle Hiroshi thought?"_

Hiraga Hiroshi.

Ichika's own older brother. He had joined the JPO and rose to be a detective. During a sting, he was sold out by a crooked partner. Hiraga Hiroshi went down swinging, drawing attention. The police still made their bust and caught the man who betrayed them.

Perhaps, his spirit had inspired Ichika's youngest son. A sense of accomplishment. Something all people seeked and few found right now.

"I don't want to lose you the same way," Naru began to tear up, "We went through much after Hiroshi died. We don't want the same of you."

" _I know mom,"_ Saito instinctively took one of Louise's hands in his own, surprising the girl who suspected the topic had turned very serious, _"But I need to do this. I can't just leave it. Not now. Not so easily."_

"Saito," Ichika crossed his arms with a nod, "You are my second born, but I care for you as equally as I do your brother and mother. You're too important to me. But in the past, a man explored to find himself. You've managed to find yourself after doing something stupid."

" _Gee, thanks dad,"_ Saito looked like he ate a bad fruit.

"You're welcome," Ichika grinned at his son, "You still need time to sort this out. Even if you think you know, you may actually not know. Speak with your brother, continue your work, see it through if you must, and then get right home! As I said, it's very lonely now. Your mother and I have been very worried and until you return, we won't stop being worried or lonely."

" _I'll see if I can't arrange for you to visit the academy or at the very least Tristain. I also promised Louise that'd we visit Japan,"_ Saito smiled to his parents, _"It's the least I can do with the money I've been paid."_

* * *

Princess Henrietta took a deep breath as she and the other leaders were led into a room by their guards. As the doors opened, a magnificent brown table was in the middle of a regal looking room. She recognized the representatives of the media and began to wave with M. Trudeau. They looked eager with their cameras pointed at the table.

The three leaders were beaming as they sat down at the table. All three of them had been assigned a different table end with Henrietta in between Trudeau and Trump. The three had chosen this arrangement to clarify how things were meant to be. Tristain was equal to America and Canada in all things, a respected partner, not a puppet state to North American interests. Something that pleased Henrietta greatly, having dealt with Albert III's rather belittling attitude towards her.

In the middle, a single paper laid on the rich wooden surface.

The paper, written in both French and English, spoke of the intention of the signatories to increase cooperation and the relationship between their nations. It didn't spell out anything specific and it wasn't legally binding, of course- that would require conventions by the legislatures of both countries. But it showed commitment in a way better than words.

Plus, for Henrietta's benefit, it was physical proof she could show her people that they had a chance of having strong allies as well as putting her on the throne. Earlier, during the round of talks, Trudeau had announced that Canada would send their own military experts alongside the Americans to investigate how they could aid Tristain, if the situation ever become fortunate enough for that to occur.

Henrietta might not have gotten an alliance out of these talks, but, as far as she knew, she'd gotten the possibility of one. which was better than nothing and gave much needed hope. She was the first to sign the paper. Trudeau was second, as Canada would be the most important party in connecting their worlds, and lastly Trump, as the United States was Canada's closest and greatest ally. The cameras flashed rapidly throughout all three signings.

"With the signing of the Ottawa Declaration, our nations engage themselves to cooperate and further diplomatic relationships in the hopes of bringing peace and prosperity to our people," Trudeau declared proudly before giving Trump his place in the spotlight.

"This declaration will be remembered in history as one of the greatest ones ever done," the POTUS waved his hands dramatically, "Nothing we've done so far can compare to this and nothing will ever be as world changing as this declaration! Humanity will never be the same after this!"

Henrietta cleared her throat as it was her turn.

"I look forward to strengthening our relationship between our two worlds to the benefits of our respective lands. I am blessed and honored to be standing as an equal with such great nations and leaders. Such an agreement will only lead to peace and prosperity."

* * *

"Looks like shit's getting real," Lieutenant Huynh whistled as he watched the whole scene on television, "Think Trudeau'll dress like them if visits the place?"

"Probably! Greatest Canadian actor ever!" another officer chuckled.

"I think I saw a picture of him in a musketeer suit once!"

His unit had been rotated out of guarding the Montreal gate. They were back in their armoury in Laval, but still on a degree of readiness. Everyone had their gear on while the ammo stores had been filled out.

"At least we won't be dealing with random monsters or armies rushing out of that fucking thing," one of his fellow officers remarked, "That's fucking good news."

"Indeed, we can sleep a little better now."

"I'd think they'd still want us to guard that gate though," Huynh remarked dryly as he checked his phone, much to the annoyance of his comrades, "At least we'll get better pay for that."

"So what are you guys gonna do with the extra money eh?" he asked, stirring up conversation.

"Maybe pay me and my girl a nice trip to Europe this summer."

"Good luck with what's happening!"

"Gonna pay off that new TV," another said, "What about you Kinh?"

"New gaming PC probably, gonna ask my buddy to choose the parts and build it once things quiet down a bit. Been meaning to get a new game."

Huynh suddenly burst out in laughter as he looked at his cellphone.

"Fucking SJW Hippies!" His fellow officers looked at him quizzingly, so he explained, "Remember that I went to UQÀM right? And that I did my master's there right?"

"Yeah, I'm surprised you're not some pink haired faggot that's always yelling about oppression and rape!"

"Wasn't that bad but the place has it's reputation for a reason. Still have some FB contacts from the wackier crowd that went there," he explained, chuckling, "To give you an idea, some of them are already fucking triggered tabarnak. Claiming that we'll be bringing colonialism, imperialism and oppression to an innocent people."

He laughed a bit.

"Crisse, they're already organising protests against 'Canadian Imperialism'. Fucking shitheads"

"Hippies… go get a fucking job losers!"

"Jobs are oppressive man!"

That filled the armory with laughter.

* * *

Throughout the US and Canada, opportunists were watching and considering their next moves. People of religion, people of business, people of politics, even just plain curious people wanted to be a part of the new interactions. There were meetings in Churches, politicians' offices, company boardrooms, studios, even over family dinner tables about what they wanted to do.

Research institutes were already thinking of the massive potentials for them. Their heads were already starting to prepare new demands for funding to back their projects while their researchers were already salivating at the discoveries lay beyond the portal. The unicorns had already captured many biologists' attention.

Reactions outside North America varied. Most countries, particularly in Europe, were reacting with intrigue and anticipation. Others were more agitated at the news, angry at what they saw as growing Western influence in another world. The location of the portal made it impossible for anyone unfriendly to NATO and her allies to gain influence with Tristain and Princess Henrietta, or the rest of the world beyond that Kingdom. Many were already preparing to negotiate with Canada and the US for talks with Henrietta. Some were too embroiled in internal issues to care, and some outright didn't care at all since they still believed it was a sham.

Every major nation had already began to instruct their UN representative about what to do next...

A young man in his early twenties was looking at the TV screen and turned it off. He had stayed late at the lab, working with the rest of his team on their latest research. Heading back to his room, the dark haired man jumped into his bed. Before closing his blue eyes, he took a quick look at a small picture frame on his bedside table.

Two young boys, one slightly taller than the other, were beaming as the tall one had two fingers raised behind the shorter one's head.

"Saito, where in the world did you end up?" he muttered before closing his eyes. The doorbell suddenly rang. He groaned as he rolled out of bed, grabbed his glasses and made his way to his apartment door. He regretted not changing into clean clothes as he opened the door.

"Hello, how can I-"

He saw a man dressed in a black suit with sunglasses.

"Hello, are you Hiraga Hayate?"

Hayate's eyes widened in surprise at the man's brusqueness.

"Yes. Why?"

"Please come with me sir."

"Uh… Can I change real quick?"

"Yes sir."

"Thanks."

* * *

The map was huge, easily covering the entire table. Henrietta was sure she'd have to walk around the table just to see it all. Louise was looking in awe as well.

"This, your Majesty, is a map of Earth- our world." Trudeau told her. She took in the map and intricacies that wouldn't be found on one from her world. It looked so big! Oceans, seas, different landmasses. Hundreds of islands large and small. What seemed to be hundreds of countries marked by borders. In Halkegenia, the land beyond the four Kingdoms and the Holy City wasn't that well known. They knew where Nephtys and the Sahara was but that was about it. Anything beyond that was shrouded in legends. But these people, they'd mapped an entire world! With astounding detail.

Some of these countries were massive. One of them stretched almost an entire continent!

"What nation is that?" she asked, "Ru-ssia. It must be a powerful nation with all that territory."

"One of the stronger countries in our world. Not stronger than us, obviously, but very powerful," Trump explained. "We've had a long history with them. We used to be allies, and then we were enemies, then allies again, and now we can't be too sure about them half the time."

"It's not exactly wealthy however," Trudeau explained, "Most of their land is frozen wasteland that is uninhabitable at best and the only major ports tend to have freezing conditions in winter strong enough to shut them down."

He pointed to Siberia which encompassed most of Eastern Russia.

"The Siberian tundra is a harsh landscape that few live in. It's actually harsher than Canada in certain areas," he continued.

Then, continuing on as the Canadian Prime Minister indicated the map at large.

"There are seven continents in our world. Europe and Asia here," Trudeau indicated a the largest landmass to the Tristainans, "which make up most of our world. Africa is the land to the south right here," Trudeau tapped the continent, "And over here-" He moved over to the other side of the map, which crossed. "Is the Americas, where the United States and Canada are."

Henrietta looked at the land he pointed to. Two lands, joined by a small strip of land between them, bordered on both sides by great oceans. She noticed two familiar names near the top of the map.

"These are your countries?" She pointed to two distinctly colored parts of the map. Both nations stretched across the entire landmass much to her surprise.

' _They must've have ports on both seas,'_ Henrietta thought, realizing that their positioning would make them powerful in terms of trade going either East or West by sea. She did note that Canada actually seemed to be the larger of the two, surprisingly so, _'Well, M. Saito had said most of their land was useless and unlivable.'_

"Exactly your Highness, we are currently in Ottawa right now," Trudeau stated, pointing to the star marking the Canadian capital before moving his hand to a large dot, "Here is Montreal, the city where the portal is."

It looked like a fair distance. A key at the bottom of the map helpfully provided a means to measure distance. Out of curiosity, Henrietta did so.

"How far is 200km exactly?" she asked curiously.

"I'm not sure how I can answer that but I think it should be 2 days of walking," Trudeau stated, "Though most people have to travel from Montreal to Ottawa in about 2 or 3 hours if the roads aren't too busy." Henrietta kept that in mind as she compared that distance to the rest of the map. It would take days to walk across either country, maybe even weeks.

"If I recall right," Saito suddenly interjected, "Terry Fox tried to run across Canada to raise money to help against cancer."

"Exactly, he started here in St-John's," Trudeau replied as he pointed two locations on the map, "He made it to Thunder Bay, here, four months later where his health failed him and forced him to stop. His exploits had brought hope to many people in his time."

It impressed the girls to hear about such a man.

"What about your capital M. Trump?" Henrietta asked, steering the topic back on track, "Though I wish to hear more about this Terry Fox later M. Trudeau."

The Canadian Prime Minister nodded.

"Well," the POTUS began as he stepped over and tapped the map, "Washington D.C. is right here. Greatest capital city in the world."

Henrietta nodded in understanding and wondered how majestic it must be if it was the capital of the wealthiest nation of a world. She imagined great palaces, stone monuments and massive golden statues lining the streets.

Behind the party, Agnes was surveying the map too. Immediately, she could tell this was a world no power, human or elven, could hope to conquer. It's size was simply too big. That the people in this world could impose order and law over such a large swath of territory was staggering. No army from their world could possibly have the means for it. If for whatever reason there was war with this world, there would be no counter-attacking; it'd have to be purely defensive and given the sheer scale of potential trade and resources, not a very long lasting one either or worthwhile one.

Henrietta drifted back to the other side of the map where most of their world was located. And then something caught her eye- Halkegenia, or what she mistook as Halkegenia at first. The shape was very similar, down to having an island off its coast. One of the countries there even had a name hauntily similar to Germania.

"Excuse me, but what is this place?" She asked the two men.

"Your Highness! It looks almost like Halkeginia," Louise exclaimed much to the surprise of both Trump and Trudeau, "Look over here. That's where Tristain is!"

"That's Western Europe where many of our allies are. A very important place in our history and today," Trudeau explained, "Many people from that land crossed the seas and settled here. Both our countries actually used to be part of a Kingdom that ruled from Western Europe."

Trudeau pointed the island nation.

"That is the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. I believe you've heard of their royalty before."

Henrietta nodded in agreement.

"It is a strange coincidence, but Halkeginia is quite similar to that continent." She pointed to two nations in particular.

"These nations, Belgium, Luxembourg, and Netherlands, are where Tristain is in Halkeginia. Even the capital of Belgium is where Tristainia is."

"What about the other nations that you mentioned your Highness? Gallia, Albion, Germania and Romalia?" Trump asked.

The princess pointed to various places on the map.

"Well, Gallia is approximately where France, Spain, and Portugal with some these nations as well," Henrietta tapped the neighbors to France, "are while Germania would cover Germany, Poland, and parts of these countries that border them. Albion is exactly where the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland is," she explained, "Romalia corresponds roughly to where the city of Rome is."

"Strange coincidence," Trudeau noted, "Rome is where the Holy See, the Vatican is. That is where Pope Francis of the Catholic Religion leads his faith from."

This confirmed what both men and their intelligence services had suspected. That Halkeginia was a magical version of Old Europe. It shocked Henrietta to hear that this world had a papacy.

"Does Pope Francis hold great sway in your courts?" she asked. Both Trudeau and Trump shook their heads.

"Pope Francis is a very symbolic leader," Trump explained, "While there are many people who follow his religion, he doesn't have much to say about how countries should be run."

This was unheard for the Tristainians. A pope with such little political clout? Pope Vittorio, by contrast, had much more power and many feared his authority and agents. His priests and spies were in every Halkeginian court.

"Say Saito, where's Japan?" Louise asked suddenly, "Is it a big nation?"

"Over here." Saito moved to the part called Asia. "These islands right here are Japan." Both girls looked where he was pointing. The first thing they noticed was how absolutely tiny it was compared to the US and Canada. Actually, how tiny it was compared to most countries on their world.

"But if the nation of Japan is that small… why did it wage war against the United States?!" Louise asked in shock, "The United States would just crush you."

"Uh...Well…" Saito wasn't sure how to defend his country's thought process. He learnt in school that his country had basically attacked the Americans and that it got nuked twice for its troubles. After having their army and navy crushed mercilessly in years of battle.

"They then thought they could beat us before we were ready to fight. They were wrong."

If getting called out by his girlfriend was embarrassing, now Saito had his people being called out by the President of the United States. Trump's tone of voice was almost feral.

"What do you mean?"

Trump cleared his throat.

"It was during a time called World War II." The name sounded ominous enough for the Tristainians, "It was a long brutal war fought by nations on almost every continent of our world. Japan and its allies tried to conquer the world while America and other allied nations such as Canada fought to defend the world."

That was rather clear as an explanation.

"Japan was conquering Asia for two years when it decided to attack the United States' territories in the Pacific Ocean," he pointed to a small chain of islands called Hawaii, "This is Hawaii, home to Pearl Harbor, our great naval base in the Pacific and where the Pacific Fleet of the United States Navy has its main headquarters and anchorage. The Japanese launched a surprise attack without declaring war on us. They destroyed many of our ships, planes, and killed many of our brave servicemen that day thinking that a nation of merchants wouldn't be able stomach something like that. After that, they attacked other nations and powers all around them, conquered many areas, with the islands in the Pacific being turned into fortresses to protect them from our revenge."

The Tristainians were enamored with the story, not noticing the Canadians weren't as interested. It didn't surprise Henrietta to hear Trump refer to his country as a nation of merchants. There was irony in his tone however.

"Unfortunately for them, Americans don't cower in fear when attacked by dirty cowards," he boasted proudly, "We bite back… _hard."_

There was some of that American bloodlust in his tone that intimidated Henrietta slightly. It sounded that the Americans hadn't taken the attack too well.

"What happened next?" Louise asked, not noticing the rather nervous Saito.

"My lady, American industry built more weapons than anyone ever could, which is how we became known as the Arsenal of Democracy, while our soldiers became the finest ones on Earth. We rebuilt our ships, made even more and then destroyed Japan's entire navy-"

"Literally no less," Trudeau remarked idly.

"-during the war while our boys dug them out from every rathole on every island they were on." Trump bragged proudly, "Even the craziest, blood thirstiest Japanese soldier couldn't stand against Uncle Sam's finest boys!"

"I remember M. Saito telling me something about a weapon that destroyed two entire Japanese cities and forced his nation into surrendering. Is this true?" Henrietta asked.

"The atomic bomb is very real your Highness! The Japanese refused to surrender even while we were bombing their cities into ruins on a daily basis. We even razed their capital city in one night and they still didn't budge."

Louise looked at Saito in shock. Henrietta and Agnes couldn't even begin to imagine how horrifying it was. To see how Trump described the whole thing so casually… was disturbing.

"But why did your people fight so hard?"

Somewhere far from the room, one of the intel people monitoring things remotely remarked to another. "You think they're scared shitless of us yet?"

"Nah," the other guy responded, "Give it a few moments. I think he's about to sell it."

Saito stammered and couldn't find his answer.

"It's very simple my lady," Trudeau explained, "At that time, the people of Japan believed that they had to fight because their Emperor had ordered so."

"B-but even my parents would refuse to fight on if it would bring more suffering for our people even if the crown or the pope asked us."

He shook his head.

"For the Japanese people, their Emperor was viewed as a living God amongst mortal men even if he was as mortal as them. Would you disobey your god?"

Louise couldn't answer. Even Agnes could understand why they refused to surrender.

"Since Japan refused to surrender, the Americans used the Atomic bomb," Trudeau continued, "It was enough to make the Japanese Emperor surrender unconditionally."

"B-but how?"

"The atomic bombs razed two entire cities in an instant," Trump answered, "Scared the Emperor into surrendering to us."

If the Americans could make a man who viewed himself as a god to surrender… they weren't people to trifle with. Henrietta looked slightly pale. Both men didn't appear to lie.

"What did you do with Japan afterwards?" she asked, fearing the answer and hoping that Saito told the truth. She couldn't imagine a nation being rebuilt so quickly after such a brutal defeat.

"We helped them rebuild after the war," Trump explained tapping the map, "Turned them into an economic and trusted ally."

"Japan is one of the wealthiest nations on Earth right now and are known for their good craftsmanship today," Trudeau added, "They also rejected war as well and maintain the purely defensive Japanese Self-Defense Force today for national defense."

Henrietta and Louise could understand why. Being that brutally defeated wasn't something that would encourage anyone to start a war. Prosperity also helped.

"I see," she finally replied, "I look forward to meeting your allies as well thought it will be at another time if I understand correctly."

"Exactly," Trudeau replied, "I believe it is time for us to begin our visits of some of our museums as scheduled earlier."

* * *

The Tristanians had an enlightening afternoon after visiting the Canadian Museum of History with Trudeau. Trump had set of another tasks to attend to and left for the American embassy. They were amazed at the size of the museum. According to M. Trudeau, the exhibits spanned 20,000 years of history though he brought them to the section covering the last 200 years instead. It was impressive for them to see. Canada, the United States, and by extension, Earth had evolved so rapidly in such a small lapse of time. Humanity on Earth had done things that were impossible for Halkeginians… without magic. It surprised them to see a portrait of M. Trudeau's father at the museum whose enigmatic face and rose intrigued Henrietta along with his important role in Canada's recent history. Trudeau also explained the tale of Terry Fox and his efforts as he had promised earlier. The tale moved the Tristainians greatly, with Agnes proclaiming that Terry Fox embodied noble virtues while Louise and Henrietta had tears in their eyes.

Afterwards, they had visited the Canadian War Museum. It was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. The weapons there were intimidating even if most of them were obsolete… despite being built not even a century ago.

Saito was like a child on Christmas morning when they entered the Lebreton Gallery. Tanks and other fighting vehicles were exposed there as well as artillery pieces that looked deadlier than the mightiest Albionese cannon. The vehicles and weapons were unlike anything they had seen in Tristain.

War in the 20th Century had become a brutal affair with weapons that the Tristainians could seldom comprehend. The mud-filled trenches of Western Europe, the bloody waters of Juno Beach and the frozen mountain passes of Korea were places that were depicted in the museum's exhibits hammered this into their heads. None of the battles in Halkeginia's history could compare to Earth's last century in their scale and ferocity.

Chemistry, Earth's alchemy, had created deadly poison gas, something that existed in Tristain… but enough to cover entire battlefields was something unheard of. Firearms had made even the finest plate armour irrelevant. Cavalrymen no longer rode horses but metal monsters called tanks that rampaged across battlefields. Agnes respected the courage of the soldiers that fought without any real protection against these terrifying weapons and how they overcame the trials of battle. Especially when she read about no-man's land.

They saw how Canada honoured its fallen soldiers, regardless of their social status. There was mentions of a monument dedicated to the soldiers who died in one of Canada's greatest battles and replicas of it. All were equal if they had died honorably in service to their country. Even the prime minister had an ancestor who died fighting and was honored like any other man despite his high birth.

They also ran into a group of Canadian Forces recruits led by their instructors, their wool berets and dark green uniforms catching the Tristainians' eyes. Agnes quickly noticed how every uniform was identical despite being worn by common soldiers and how women were a regular presence in their ranks with some leading the group. She wondered what kind of leaders could afford such uniforms with complex patterns for common soldiers and how visiting a museum was part of training. Their discipline was also impressive when they were ordered to salute their Prime Minister and the Tristainians. Henrietta was impressed as well but suddenly realized that Canada was the weaker military power in regards to the United States… What did the American armies look like if the Canadians were that well equipped?

* * *

"I hope you have enjoyed our day today," Trudeau said warmly as they arrived at Rideau Hall, "And that you've learnt much about Earth."

The mismatched group disembarked from the limousine and into the cold night.

"Yes, thank you M. Trudeau," Henrietta replied, "I look forward to the day when you and M. Trump will visit Tristain."

Trudeau nodded in agreement, understanding the PR coup that such a visit would do for him and his government. At the same time, it would help convince Canada and the US that the Tristainians were worth their time.

"I'm afraid that I have other tasks to attend to but I wish you all to have a good evening," he said as he embarked into the limousine, "M. Hiraga?"

"Yes?"

"I've got a bit of a surprise for you waiting inside," the prime minister said with a smile, "Good evening now eh."

"Euh thank you sir! Good evening."

With that, Trudeau closed the door and the limousine headed off while the group was led back into Rideau Hall's luxurious interior. Trudeau's words' were perplexing and Saito wondered what was waiting for him. It couldn't be his parents, the flight from Japan was far too long for them to make so quickly. So what was it?

As he opened the door to his suite, with Louise and Henrietta as well as the rest of the Musketeers following him, he recognized a familiar silhouette.

"Onii-chan!? What are you doing here?"

Taller, neat black hair and the same blue eyes behind glasses, though they appeared as tired and weary as his mother's. The two brothers ran up to each other and hugged.

"I can't believe you're alive, you fool!" Hayate exclaimed as he ruffled his little brother's hair.

"And I never thought I'd see you again Hayate!"

"Me too little brother, me too," he said as they separated before smacking his brother behind the head.

"Ow!"

"That was for stepping in some weird portal you idiot," his brother chuckled half-heartedly while Saito glared at him, "Dad raised you better than that!"

"How did you-"

"The Canadian agents explained everything to me."

Saito groaned internally. Some of it was just too embarrassing.

"Well, aren't you introduce gonna me to your girlfriend and friends?" he asked, pointing Louise who looked at him curiously, "Does she speak Japanese?"

Saito shook his head.

"But she can understand French and English."

"Oh very well then," he said before changing, "Good thing I can speak English."

"Yeah, I think Louise's magic gave me better English."

"I see, but we haven't been introduced properly," he said, lightly scolding Saito.

"R-right, so Hayate, this is Lady Louise-Françoise Leblanc de La Vallière! She's my girlfriend that I met in Halkeginia. Louise, this is my old brother, Hiraga Hayate."

"I am pleased to meet you Hiriga Hayate," she curtsied before the older sibling.

"The pleasure is mine milady."

Hayate took a glance at Louise before turning back to Saito with an evil grin on his face.

"Since when did you become a lolicon?" he chuckled much to the embarrassment of his little brother.

"Saito? What's a lolicon?" she innocently asked, causing her boyfriend to become even redder. Before he could say anything, his brother answered again.

"A lolicon is a man who likes lolis," he said cheekily.

"What's a loli then?"

Saito suddenly got himself together as his brother started answering.

"Well a loli is a-"

"Oh no! You're not hearing that!"

He covered a confused Louise's ears with his hands just in time. Saito knew exactly where his older brother was taking this discussion. The older Hiraga hadn't seen Louise's infamous temper… yet.

"Gotcha little bro!" he laughed as he saw Saito remove his hands from Louise's ears.

"What was he about to say?"

"Something really per-"

"A loli's a woman who looks a lot younger than her age. Like flat chested ones-OW!"

The familiar sound of a slap resounded inside the room as Hayate was knocked off his feet from Louise's slap. The pinkette was redder than a tomato and was staring down the older Hiraga.

"SHUT UP YOU MANGY DOG!"

"Louise no!"

"H-how dare he?!" she shrieked with angry tears in her eyes.

"Ow, you got a feisty one there," Hayate said as he gingerly rubbed his cheek, "Must make for interesting nights."

They could hear some snickering from the back of the group while Louise's death glare intensified.

"Hayate!"

"I guess that being perverted runs in your family," the pink haired mage commented dryly.

"Louise!" Saito groaned, "I'm not that bad right?"

"Dog."

Seeing the futility of going on, Saito simply sighed while his brother stood up.

"So how did mom and dad take this whole thing?"

There was another sigh.

"Mom was… mom," the younger brother explained tiredly.

"So lots of shouting and mood swings? Any embarrassing questions?"

Saito and Louise reddened which gave Hayate the answer he needed.

"Ah wonderful. Dad?"

"Worried and tried to make a bad joke to calm down mom."

Hayate chuckled as he sat down on a chair, gesturing the group to follow him.

"Sounds like them alright. So who are your other friends?"

Saito nodded but Louise took the initiative.

"This is her Highness, Princess Henrietta de Tristain, heiress to the Blessed Water Throne," she said grandly before pointing to a woman in green clothes and armours, "This is Chevalier Agnes de Milan, leader of her her Highness's Musketeer Corps!"

"Pleased to meet you both," Hayate answered back before gesturing to a table, "I haven't had supper yet since I waited for you guys to show up."

"The pleasure is ours M. Hayate," Henrietta said warmly as they walked to a table, Hayate leading the group, "I must admit that I didn't expect to meet M. Saito's older brother."

"And I certainly didn't expect to see my brother being friends with a lovely princess," he said, winking at Henrietta, causing the princess to blush slightly, "The world is full of surprises."

He pulled a chair and motionned for the princess while Saito did the same for Louise.

"Here, have a seat, your Highness."

"Why thank you M. Hayate," Henrietta replied, giggling slightly.

"Welcome but please don't call me M. Hayate, I'm not that old yet," he joked as he sat down, "I'm just 23."

"So Hayate, how are your studies going on?" Saito asked as he sat down.

"Very well, they keep me busy," his brother answered, while picking up the room service menu, "Ordered anything here yet? Anything good?"

Saito shook his head.

"I wanted to yesterday but euh... something happened."

Louise glared at him, redfaced in embarrassment.

"Something happened?" she turned her face to Hayate, "Your perverted brother tried to corrupt her Highness's pure and innocent eyes with debauchery!"

Hayate burst out laughing, much to Louise's annoyance. The mage growled lightly.

"What did he do?"

"He showed her a perverted TV show!"

"Wait what?"

Saito flushed red while his brother grinned at his predicament, having understood what happened.

"I just switched to the wrong channel Louise!" he whined, "Honest."

"Don't be too hard on him. He was probably lost since Canada and Japan don't use the same channels."

"Fine, I'm not going to punish him tonight, since your brother seems to take your perversions lightly," she said, changing her tone, "Maybe is it because he's as perverted as you?" she teased.

Henrietta cleared her throat.

"Excuse me but what do you study exactly Hayate?"

The man smiled.

"I'm studying to become a doctor. I guess I can say I'm kind of like a healer."

Henrietta was intrigued. Water Mages, while able to fight with the aid of water, were typically healers, their magic finely attuned for healing grievous injuries and illnesses. The Tristainian monarchs were renowned for their healing prowess and the princess was no exception.

"Really?" she asked, mildly surprised, "I was taught mainly healing magic."

"Healing magic huh? I have to admit that I'm curious to how that works. Perhaps if we have some free time, we can work together?" he suggested politely, "I wonder if I can get the rest of my group to join us."

"Your group?"

"Yeah, I'm studying with a group of other students led by Professor Arthur Summers. We're working on stopping a disease." Hayate answered before his stomach growled, "Sorry about that your Highness. Do you mind if we continue this after eating?"

Henrietta giggled a bit.

"It is no problem Hayate."

"Wonderful!" he clapped his hands together before picking up a menu, "Have you guys had a poutine yet? It's one of Canada's most famous foods."

Saito, Louise and Henrietta shook their heads.

"No, but we've had delicious feasts with M. Trudeau and M. Trump." Henrietta answered with a friendly tone, "Why have they not served us that meal?"

"Ah, that's because poutine is not something to be served in important meals but enjoyed casually between friends," Hayate explained, "Serving that during an official meal between leaders would be a lack of manners."

Somehow, telling her that poutine was very much a commoner's food was not something he thought was a good idea.

"Onii-chan, do you think they have teriyaki burgers here?" Saito asked hopefully, drooling at the mouth.

"Saito! Show some manners!" Louise scolded, elbowing him before turning her attention to a grinning Hayate, "He has been missing that dish a lot during his time in Tristain."

"You two remind me of mom and dad," he snickered much to both teenagers' embarrassment while he glanced at the menu, "I don't think so but I do know a few places in Montreal that do have them."

"Aww man," Saito slumped in disappointment.

"Did you feed him plenty of lemon-flavored things though?" Hayate asked Louise. The pinkette's eyebrow raised in curiosity while Saito glared at his brother in embarrassment.

"That's his favorite fruit," the elder Hiraga explained, "Can't work without them."

"Onii-chan!"

His brother merely chuckled before picking up the phone and calling up some food for the Tristainians to sample. The girls couldn't recognize the foods he called but Saito had an excited look on his face.

"I can't believe I'll be eating hamburgers again!" he exclaimed, "And pizza! And sushi"

"Wait till you taste a poutine Saito!"

"So what exactly makes those food special?" Louise asked, intrigued by her boyfriend's enthusiasm. She had attended many banquets in Tristain but had never heard of such food.

"I haven't had them in a long time! Wait until you have Coca Cola!" he exclaimed.

Henrietta was intrigued by what the brothers described.

"Excuse me but is Canada known for its gastronomy?" she asked Hayate, "Just how many types of fare are there on Earth?"

"Well, your Highness," he answered, smiling, "Each nation has its own way of cooking and Canada is known for having great food. Since people from all over our world have settled here, their culinary traditions have followed them and gave us some really nice choices for eating. Certain chefs even combine different types of cooking to create new dishes."

"Amazing! But please, call me Henrietta as we are amongst friends Hayate."

"Very well.. Henrietta," he winked again, "I hope you'll enjoy the food."

He then glanced at Saito and Louise.

"Think you guys want to watch a movie later on? I saw some good ones that'll be on tonight."

Saito grinned from side to side while Louise looked at Hayate skeptically.

"As long you don't put anything perverted on like your brother did!"

He chuckled warmly.

"Don't worry! I know what channels to avoid!"

Just then, the door to their suite opened, revealing Rideau Hall's smartly dressed butlers and maids along with platters of food. Saito recognized hamburgers, sushi and pizza as well as bottles of Coca Cola.

"Louise! You have to try this pizza," he exclaimed as he piled food on a plate.

"Wait! I don't think I can eat that much!"

"Wait till the poutine comes in," Hayate chimed in, "That's the best part!"

Another butler came in, carrying small bowls. There was a greasy smell coming from them. As he put it down, Saito and the Tristainians were looking at the contents in shock.

"What did they do to those fries?!" Saito exclaimed, slightly disgusted at the dish. It was fries covered with cheese curds and dark brown gravy. The smell was enticing but the look was off-putting.

"They took fries and made them better, little bro. That's a poutine."

Louise, meanwhile, was poking skeptically at the dish with her fork before taking a bite. Her face suddenly lit up.

"This is delicious!"

"Really?" Saito looked skeptical while Louise glared at him.

"Do you really doubt my palate?" she asked as she took another bite from the bowl, "I was taught by my tutors what proper food is."

"Maaybe."

He pushed himself to try out the poutine. As he took the bite, he could understand why his brother liked it. It had a deliciously greasy and salty taste to it. Henrietta seemed to approve as well as she dug into the meal enthusiastically.

"Hey you were right Hayate. This is really good!" Saito exclaimed as he took another bite.

"Sooo got a question for you Saito," Hayate asked with a devilish grin.

"Y-yes?" he asked nervously, not liking the look on his brother's face.

"When are you two getting married?" he chuckled, "You two remind of mom and dad!"

"..."

"I-idiot!" Louise spluttered, her face matching her hair. Henrietta giggled at the joke.

"Hayate, your humour is quite refreshing," she praised.

"I aim to please, your Highness!" he replied in mock-seriousness.

The group enjoyed their meal as they ate the various food that was presented to them. Very soon, they began to swap tales about Saito and Louise's adventures in Halkeginia as well as medical knowledge between Henrietta and Hayate. Hayate also filled in Saito on the latest manga, anime and movies that had come out the past months, much to his younger sibling's excitement. The two joked about making a movie out of his time in Tristain. Both enjoyed discussing the basics between their ways of healing as well as their education, finding much common ground. Once the meal had been finished, the group enjoyed a fantasy movie, awing the Tristainians.

Earth and Halkeginia had become one step friendlier to each other on that peaceful night in Ottawa. It was a well deserved break in Henrietta's mind after recent events. The pleasure of being amongst friends, a small moment of normalcy.

 **Author's endnote: Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Wanted to end this chapter on a relaxing moment given how stressful everything was for the Tristainians. Father like son eh? Guess where I got the names for Saito's family?**

 **Trivia time then, Trudeau does have a relative, Talbot Mercer Papineau, who died in 1917 and whose remains hadn't been found because artillery shells tend to be very good at making things disappear...**


	7. Interlude: A Warrior's Last Voyage

**Author's note: Disclaimer: FoZ/ZnT belong to the departed Noboru Yamaguchi and whoever inherited the I.P.. Any real life organisation/person is merely being used in a fictional non-profit way.**

 **Special thanks to Trainalf and Karaya 2 for their help on this chapter and getting the ambiance right. Wouldn't have done it without you guys.**

 **Interlude: A Warrior's Last Voyage**

Henrietta was standing the walls of the academy, looking at the gate. It had been a week since she had returned from Ottawa. Her last day there had been spent arranging the arrival of the American recovery team and the military observers from both nations as well as finalizing the details for Ambassador Ambroise's stay in Tristain before visiting the Canadian Parliament.

The sound of rumbling filled her ears as she recognized it as the arrival of the American recovery team. They were right on time. They'd arrived in those horseless carriages she'd seen so often on the other side, although these looked far different then any of the ones she'd seen. They were much bigger than the ones she had seen and rode in.

Painted green and box-like, these carriages conveyed strength. Besides her, Lord Centurion Pierre and Lady Karin de La Vallière watched their arrival, stone faced. Like hawks, the veteran battlemages observed each movement they did. Between those carriages, an even larger one was with them. It looked a lot more like a wagon they were familiar with, since it had what looked to be a cloth cover over it.

"They are still ugly wagons," Lady Vallière commented, earning a short grunt from her husband, "What type of magic do you think powers them?"

"Definitely not Wind or Earth magic," Lord Vallière replied, "It is unlike anything I've ever seen."

Henrietta cleared her throat before explaining.

"Uncle Pierre, Aunt Karin, Earth doesn't have magic. Those wagons are powered by refined oils like most of their means of transportations."

"Fascinating," the lady said emotionlessly, "I look forward to meeting more of these Americans and Canadians."

"They really are nice people." Henrietta insisted as the long line of vehicles drove up the road towards the academy, kicking up dust as they did so. They pulled off the road and stopped in the grass a fair distance from the academy gates.

"If they are anything like M. Ambroise," Lord Vallière replied, "Than I believe that we will be able to discuss civilly."

The group hastily made their way to the entrance where the convoy had stopped.

The men who stepped out of the wagons were just as intimidating as the polite ambassador's guards. Tall and broad shouldered, they towered over many of the Tristainian soldiers that served in the Vallières' armies. They too hid their faces with glasses and scarves. Their uniforms and armour were completely foreign to the Tristainians. Their clothing and armour were a mix of small spots of brown, beige and green while sleek, black muskets hung from them.

Their appearance caused the Vallières to tense up slightly. Two men were at the front of the groups, each in a similar uniform though unmasked. Henrietta stepped up to meet them, followed by M. Ambroise. Ambroise had gotten a dispatch beforehand, so he was able to introduce them.

"Your highness, I present to you Colonels Benjamin Hamilton of the United States Army and James Roberts of the Canadian Army. Colonel Hamilton will be overseeing the recovery of the American soldier on Academy grounds and will be leading the team of observers from his nation whereas Colonel Roberts will be in charge of my nation's observers."

The colonels nodded before raising their right hand to salute Henrietta and Ambroise while the Vallières were scrutinizing them. Both looked to be around their age, meaning in his late 40's to early 50's. Their uniforms were unusual not just because of its color but because it was identical to those he led. Perhaps they were the each leaders of an order of knights? Their greying hair and face were shaved clean, giving them very well-maintained appearances that betrayed great discipline. They also donned the same helmet that their men wore.

"Greetings, it's an honour to finally meet you, your Highness," Colonel Hamilton said professionally before turning to face the Vallières, "And you are?"

"I am Lord Centurion Pierre Le Blanc de la Vallière and this is my wife, Lady Karin Desirée de la Vallière. I am pleased to meet you Lords Hamilton and Roberts."

"Milord, I am not a lord but just a colonel. My country doesn't have any nobility," the American explained quickly, "From what I understand, you are the commanders of one of Tristain's armies?"

"As for me, I don't possess any title either though there are certain Canadians with titles though they are quite rare," Colonel Roberts added quickly , "Most of them do not serve in the Forces however."

The American and Canadian officers had been briefed on the workings of old Medieval Kingdoms.

"THE finest army in its borders." Lord Vallière boasted proudly, "My family's army has long defended this land while my wife has long led the Manticore knights as their captain."

"I see."

"What army of the United States do you lead Colonel Hamilton?"

The colonel shook his head before talking.

"I currently do not lead any troops but remain in the employ of the US Army."

Explaining the intricacies of staff work at the Pentagon was not something that he felt necessary for the time being.

"We see." They didn't, but obviously they weren't going to make themselves look ignorant. Especially in front of a military representative from a potentially powerful ally.

"And you Colonel Roberts?" Lord Vallière asked.

"I am in a similar position but I serve at one of Canada's military academies, helping to train new officers."

"To train the next leaders of your army is truly an honorable task," Lady Vallière complimented before turning to the American, "So what exactly will your men be doing?"

"It's very simple, we'll go in, confirm he's one of ours, claim his weapons and bring him home."

It was rather straightforward as far as a mission went. Behind them, the Americans were unloading a large shiny metal box.

"And you Colonel Roberts?"

"We'll be staying here and wait for Colonel Hamilton's return." The Vallières looked at him curiously, "It's a task that concerns only the Americans."

"Was this man important in your army? A great hero Colonel?" Henrietta asked as they began to walk into the Academy, followed by Agnes and her bodyguards.

"We don't know yet your Highness."

"So why go to such length for a single man Colonel?" Lady Vaillère asked neutrally, trying to gauge his reaction.

"No one gets left behind my lady," Hamilton answered simply, "It is one of the core values of our nation's armies and one we hold dearly."

As the procession made it to the Academy's courtyard, they were greeted by an elderly man that reminded the Americans of a cross between Gandalf and Dumbledore.

"Colonel Hamilton, this is Old Osmond, the Academy's Headmaster and the man saved by your soldier."

"Hello." Osmond received the men very warmly, "I am very happy that you are here."

"The pleasure is ours Mr. Osmond," the officer responded, "We look forward to bringing home of our own as soon as possible."

"Of course, of course. I'll take you to him right now." Osmond offered. The Canadians stayed behind with the Vallieres. Henrietta, with Agnes of course, accompanied the Americans and the headmaster.

"I'd never seen a man of such power." Osmond was retelling the story. "Wild dragons are a very grave threat to us. Even the most skilled of mages will be wary when facing them."

"Oh?"

Osmond nodded.

"I was travelling back to the Academy after an expedition to some ruins. Unfortunately, I ran into a wild dragon on a path in the woods. My magic was useless against its hide. It disarmed me, and I feared then and there I would fall. And then suddenly it just exploded! Killed in a single instant! I turned to see an injured man stumbling from the woods and collapsing before me, carrying his staff of destruction. I'd never seen such power or bravery."

"If he was one of ours, I'm not surprised. We don't run from a fight."

The tidbit about the rocket launcher killing a dragon instantly was something that Hamilton couldn't ignore. That was something the higher-ups in Washington would need to know as soon as possible.

"He has done your army justice then. I carried him to the Academy as swiftly as I could but alas, he had succumbed to his wounds as we arrived in the infirmary."

There was guilt in the old headmaster's voice.

"I truly wished that I could have spoken with him and understand who he was, for I owe him my life."

"I understand Mr. Osmond. Rest assured, he'll be treated with the full honors he deserves when he goes home."

Osmond nodded in approval.

"Luckily for him, I had just begun my tenure as headmaster of the Academy. I had buried him down here." Osmond went on as they entered the catacombs beneath the academy. "Usually, these are reserved for the most intelligent and greatest magical minds. But I felt it an honor he deserved after sacrificing his life for mine." He led them past the numerous tombs before stopping in front of one in particular.

"He's right here." Osmond told the party. "He's been buried in this tomb for all these years."

"May we open it?" The American colonel asked.

"Of course." Osmond nodded. The American officer stood back and let the elderly mage do his work. The old man began motioning with this staff, and the heavy lid was effortlessly lifted up and set off to the side. The soldiers had been briefed, so they weren't alarmed although they were still silently surprised.

"Impressive Mr. Osmond," the colonel said before looking inside the tomb. There was no mistake. It was an American soldier from the Vietnam War. He had the familiar M16-A1 rifle beside him, along with the empty rocket launcher. He looked as youthful as the day he died. His body was clean, and his uniform immaculate. The flak jacket had two reddish holes where his lower chest was. His M-1 helmet showed no sign of rust either and the cover was intact.

"Sir, look, he's a Private First Class from the 101st!" One of the soldiers in the party pointed to the Eagle patch and rank on his shoulder before scrutinizing the rest of the body and pulling a name tag from beneath the uniform top, "Name's Robert A. Jackson."

"He looks like he hasn't aged a day." The colonel remarked. "How long has he been here?"

"I can't remember for certain." Osmond confessed sadly as he bowed his head. "But I was a very, very, young man. I think it was almost 50 years."

"And his body's been preserved that long?" They'd expected skeletal remains, the sad norm when it came to retrieving casualties this old.

"Yes, with the usual magic for these affairs. It was the least I could do for him after he saved my life."

Magic? The Americans wondered how that might affect getting the body ready for the funeral. For all they knew, it'd wear off and the body crumble to dust as soon as it went through the gate.

"What would happen if you removed the magic preserving his body? Will it-"

"I don't believe that's possible. Well, without some highly questionable means."

"I see… how efficient is this preservative magic?"

"Extremely efficient. This is the same used by nobles to preserve the bodies of their ancestors and you needn't worry to move his remains. The spell will hold as long as you don't desecrate the body."

"Excellent Mr. Osmond."

"Do you need any help moving him?" Osmond asked. The colonel declined.

"No. He's one of ours. We'll take him home. His family and country are waiting for him to come back," he declared somberly. The Tristainians watched as, with extreme care, the Americans lifted the body from the tomb. With extreme care, the body was lowered into the metal casket. Three others collected the man's musket and staff of destruction.

"Will he be taken directly to be buried?" Henrietta asked. She still remembered her and M. Trump's discussion of her attending the funeral.

"No. We'll need time to search our records for him. Find out where exactly he disappeared from, and what family he has left. It may be a week before he's buried."

"I see." Henrietta nodded as she witnessed the Americans lifting the casket and maneuvering it carefully, almost ritualistically. The colonel took a glance at Osmond.

"My nation would like to invite you to this man's funeral. His fellow soldiers and surviving family will most likely wish to thank you for preserving his body and will want to know how he died a hero."

The elderly simply nodded and silently agreed.

There was something incredibly somber about the mood as the large party left the school's underground section with the body. No one said anything.

When they were again above ground, the American colonel stopped next to M. Ambroise and his Canadian counterpart. "You are not going with them?" Duke Valliere asked as the other soldiers carried the bag containing the body to the carriages.

"They're going home. As I'm sure the princess told you, we will be staying." He answered, "Our ambassador will be arriving soon and I am also in charge of the observation team."

"Indeed." The duke responded, obvious displeasure in his voice.

* * *

The Tristainians neither saw or heard it, but as the recovery team approached the truck, a door on one of the MRAPs opened and a man stepped out. He was dressed similarly to the soldiers- sunglasses, a vest, a gun slung behind him- that the Tristains wouldn't notice him particularly. But to the soldiers, he stuck out like a sore thumb.

"So they really had an American buried here?" He asked the recovery team, eyeing the soldiers carrying the deceased's weapons.

"Yeah," dispassionately answered one of the soldiers with evident disdain.

While the soldiers were on security detail and scanning the area with purpose, this man looked around with far more leisure and obviousness. At the untouched nature, at the authentic looking castle in the sky line, are the people in weird dress and knights in armor carrying muskets.

It wasn't the craziest stuff that Simon Anders had seen, but it was up there. Yet it was still familiar. These were people. People were rational and irrational. They acted in certain ways. They could be made to act in certain ways.

The soldiers, they were here to analyze the military situation. But him? He was here for the people and the social order of this world. How to understand it, how to read it, and, eventually, how to manipulate it.

* * *

The large carriage and several of the smaller ones left. The only ones left were for the observers who would be staying.

There were further introductions after that. Each party was made up of three officers from those countries' militaries. The rest were soldiers who'd come along to guard them. The soldiers guarding the Canadian nobles were very different from the Canadian soldiers who'd come with M. Ambroise. They were still as tall and muscular but didn't hide their faces. The Vallières noted that these men looked very well-fed and very well paid, judging by their appearance. Aside from the different colors and insignias of their uniforms, the American soldiers looked almost the same. Even their strange muskets were nearly identical as far as the Tristainians could tell, the Canadians having painted theirs green. There was not a single swordsman or pikeman in their ranks.

What kind of armies were they?

* * *

The next few days for Henrietta were spent juggling her visitors and her own people. Obviously, she wanted to prove Tristain was still a strong nation, so with Agnes' help she arranged to show off their military power. There were more than a few nobles who wished to show off their private armies as well to the new visitors.

Both the American and Canadian officers were very polite. Mostly, they only watched. When it came to show off the Griffon Knights and Tristain's meagre aerial fleet, they even asked a few questions. Henrietta was especially hopeful when they began asking about Albion's military and what threats they posed. Their guards though, were mostly silent, even when questioned by Tristainian nobles and soldiers.

Speaking of which, Henrietta spent a depressing amount of time placating them. Her regency council were not pleased with her at all by this. And it kind of stung the young Princess that even her mother wasn't behind her on this.

As unfitting as it was to her position, she was almost glad when word from the American ambassador reached her that she could return to the other world to attend the American soldier's funeral.

* * *

"Welcome to Georgia, your Highness!" Trump greeted boisterously as she disembarked from the plane along with Old Osmond, Agnes and the musketeers. It was noticeably warmer than Canada, but not annoyingly so and there was no snow anywhere in sight. The weather was very relaxing, although a bit humid. There was also another man next to him, dressed similarly. Henrietta wore a dark grey dress rather than her usual purple one, having being instructed by the ambassadors that the colour was a better choice for Earth's funerals.

It had been explained to her how the United States was divided into, well, states. Georgia was one of them, located in the south of their country. They hadn't told her much about it, but this is where the soldier had come from. This was his home.

"Thank you President Trump," she replied, curtsying before the president, "It's an honour to finally visit your country. Even with the given circumstances."

"On the contrary your Highness," Trump replied, "Your visit here is a way for you to understand how America takes care of its soldiers and show your good will towards our world."

He glanced at the old mage next to Henrietta.

"Are you-"

Old Osmond nodded.

"Yes, I am the one that Robert A. Jackson saved. I cannot express how grateful I am to be present for his funeral."

Trump nodded in agreement.

"I will not be able to accompany for the funeral but arrangements have been made by the State Department to have a diplomat assigned to your party and guide you during the funeral."

"Splendid."

"May I introduce to you Mr. Connors from the State Department."

* * *

A convoy of limousines and SUV's arrived at the graveyard. It was a small one surrounded by a stonewall. A small group of people dressed in black were slowly filtering in.

"Is this where the funeral is to be held?" the princess asked Mr. Connors as the limousine came to a halt.

"Exactly, your highness."

They were led by their American guards to a small section at the back and saw different people dressed in black file in. What they noticed where the men and women dressed in what seemed to be uniforms. They wore black jackets and blue pants along with wool berets. Their shoes were shining like black pearls under the sun.

The uniformed people stood around a magnificent wooden casket in which lay the defunct soldier, his uniform having being replaced by an elegant one. It was green and had various medals and insignias on it. His left shoulder had the same eagle insignia on it as it did on his combat uniform. The casket was draped with the American flag.

Henrietta and her group spotted some aging men in the front rows of seats, dressed just like the deceased. Some had scars on their worn faces while another was in a wheelchair. Their faces were heavy with emotions.

"Those are men he fought alongside with before his death." It was explained to her when she asked. "They missed him all these years and came to finally see their brother in arms again." Even from where she was, Henrietta could clearly see at least one of them was openly crying while another was comforting him.

"I see." She acknowledged quietly before noticing another man arriving, alongside an older woman. Both looked emotional, tears brimming in their eyes and were accompanied by younger people as well- young adults and late teenagers like Henrietta herself.

"That was his family. I believe he was the oldest son of his family." Connors explained quietly.

"Oh, I hope his death didn't bring too much misfortune to them," Osmond said sadly, knowing how certain families would collapse with the loss of their first son, "I hope that his return will ease their suffering."

"It doesn't seem to be the case," the diplomat replied warmly, "His family has been doing well from what I see."

Another man made his way to the front. He looked like he was an offshoot of Saito's people, but with more tanned skin. His tired and weary face and small frame looked like they had endured great hardship and he wore a red beret on his head with an eagle insignia. His clothing was similar to the one worn by the fallen soldier though the shoulder insignia was different. It was a red square with a round circle with an eagle flying on it.

They saw him being greeted tearfully by the other soldiers who showed him to one of the seats. Very soon, people stopped coming in and the attendees were all seated. A man dressed in black garb took the podium and began to speak while Trump sat in a chair behind him. Connors quickly whispered to the Tristianians that he was a priest.

"Today, we are united to celebrate the return of one of our one, Robert Arthur Jackson, to his family and brothers in arms after he had left for the distant land in service to his nation. Once in Vietnam, Robert had served with distinction alongside his fellow Soldiers, having fought in numerous battles until the Tet Offensive. During this battle, he was lost to us and transported to another world where he once more displayed the virtues that our servicemen aspire to fulfil by selflessly giving his life to save the one of another man. But now, by the grace of God, he has come home."

Henrietta and the Tristanians were confused. Who was this 'God'? At the same time, they could hear weeping from the front row where the veterans and next of kin were sitting.

"I know that there is no doubt sadness in our hearts, that he has already gone to join our Lord and Father in heaven. Let us not be sad. Let us not lament on how he was transported to this mysterious world; God works in mysterious ways. Let us instead be glad that this son has returned to be buried with his family. Let us remember instead how he was in life: brave, devoted and kind."

The priest stepped down from the podium and it was Trump that took his place.

"It is an honor for me to be here as your president. I am grateful to be present and give thanks to another brave American serviceman that gave his life for our freedom and for another man. I would like to thank Princess Henrietta and her people on behalf of all of America for allowing the return of one of our lost sons. Without them, we would not be standing here and this man would never have been reunited with his family."

The crowd clapped lightly and turned their heads towards the Tristainian delegation who lowered their heads in respect.

"America thanks you, your Highness, and is grateful for your presence."

Trump then left the podium and returned to his seat. The old, grey haired woman that they had seen earlier was the next to speak. She had made her way from the front row.

"I don't know what to say," she said, tears glimmering in her eyes, "After so many years, I'd never thought I'd see my big brother again after he left for Vietnam to fight the 'bad guys'. I can only thank God for reuniting him with us and thank you Mr. Osmond for preserving his body. I've missed you Bobby."

She stepped down and another man walked up. It was one of the 101st veterans.

"I can't believe you made it home Bobby after everything. You still look good too, you lucky bastard," he said, sniffling slightly, "Me and Bobby met in training. Couldn't stand each other's guts at first in fact. Called him a fat prick and he called me a shithead. Somehow, we became best friends along the way before we completed training. Next thing we know, we're being sent to South Vietnam to fight Communists."

His voice broke and he paused to recompose himself.

"I'll never forget the day we lost him. It was during the Tet Offensive. We were in Hue City and Charlie had overrun the place. We got caught in an ambush on a small street. Bobby got shot but tough bastard didn't stop running as we pulled out. A building collapsed between him and the rest of the squad. We couldn't get to him…" he choked, "and thought the VC got him. I never thought he could've gotten so far from us. I'm proud to have been his friend and I'm happy to know that he died helping his fellow man."

There was another pause.

"I thank God for having returned our brother to us. We are truly blessed today."

Another one of the aging men stood up to speak. It was the one with tanned skin and a red beret.

"Bobby was one of my first American friends that I made when I was in the South Vietnamese Airborne. He and his friends were funny people when we met as young men fighting for our countries."

He sighed before continuing.

"When we were resting after a hard-fought battle, Anh Bobby and I made a promise that when the war would be over and Vietnam free from Communism, I'd come to America to visit him and his family to thank them for helping us. He promised me that we would go fishing and hunting together in Georgia. We were young and hopeful back then. We'd never thought that things would end the way they did. I certainly didn't believe that we would lose, but after Bobby disappeared… I still made it to America but under different circumstances… But by the heavens, we found each other again and I am thankful that his soul can now rest in peace rather than wander forever far from home."

Henrietta noted that this man had not mentioned the Americans' God a single time. He turned to salute his dead friend.

"Thank you for helping my people in our battle for freedom. May you now find peace my friend."

The next moments were filled with speeches from the other veterans. The one in a wheelchair thanked Bobby for saving his life after he was injured by an explosion. Bobby had ran out from cover to drag the injured man to safety. He would never fight again but would live thanks to his friend's selflessness. Praise for his courage, friendliness and good nature abunded from the people who spoke of their once-lost friend. There was not a single dry eye amongst the gathered.

Henrietta and the Tristainians were moved by the comradeship between these old soldiers and they were grateful that they helped him return home so that his loved ones could bury him in his land.

A row of soldiers formed up behind the casket once the speeches had finished and the priest said his last prayer. They carried magnificent muskets made with well polished metal and wood that was a deep and rich shade of brown. The weapons gleamed proudly in the sunlight.

"Are those muskets loaded?" Agnes asked Connors. She was curious to see armed soldiers at a funeral of all things.

"They're fired near the end of the ceremony. We call it a three volley salute. A long time ago, when armies would take a break from the fighting to collect and bury their dead, muskets were fired in a volley of three to signal that the dead had been put to rest, and that side was ready to continue fighting. We continue to do it at funerals. The dead can rest, but we will fight on."

"That's very… inspiring." Agnes commented as she watched the soldiers perform a ceremonial drill with their muskets before they fired.

The Tristanians weren't quite prepared for the sound the muskets made when they fired. Even Agnes, who fired pistols and muskets regularly, was caught off guard. Their etiquette kicked in, making sure that they wouldn't embarrass themselves here. Another began to play a brass horn after the shots were fired. The music was solemn and mournful as the crowd placed their right hands over their hearts while the veterans raised their right hands to their temples to salute the fallen.

The same soldiers who'd fired assembled around the casket and began to fold the American flag that had been draped over the casket. It was done in a ritual-like way, every man moving with almost supernatural precision and each move carried great care as they folded the flag in an intricate fashion before presenting it to the fallen's sister. The soldier knelt before the old woman as he presented it to her.

"On behalf of the President of the United States, the United States Army, and a grateful nation, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your loved one's honorable and faithful service," he declared as she accepted the flag, tears in her eyes. Very soon after, the casket was lowered into the ground and the crowds began to disperse. Not all though; some stayed to talk with each others. Some of them even approached the Tristanians.

"Thank you so very much for giving us our Uncle Bobby back," one of the younger man said tearfully, "You have no idea how long we've waited for this."  
"Please, it was the least we could do," Henrietta answered kindly before Osmond spoke up.

"Your brother saved many lives in our world," he explained warmly, "That wild dragon he slew was a threat to many innocents and would not have stopped after me. It warms my hearts to see that he has returned to his loved ones."

The man nodded.

"Know that you'll always be welcome in our home when you'll come to the United States."

Meanwhile, Agnes had walked over to the gathered veterans. The elderly men were conversing with each other, nostalgia dripping from their voices.

"Excuse me but I wished to speak with you," she asked politely, "I have a few questions for you."

They looked at the knight in green armour with uncertainty.

"Yes... Ma'am?"

She could sense their hesitation but her curiosity and concern for the princess and the kingdom overrode the tension.

"As you are aware, Princess Henrietta has graciously hosted your nation's ambassador in her Royal Palace along with their guards. As head of her security and commander of the Musketeer Corps, I wish to learn more about your order."

Ever since the American and Canadian parties had arrived, Agnes had attempted to talk with their guards and get a glimpse of how they worked. She had hoped that she could confirm their trustworthiness and efficiency should any alliance go through.

For whatever reason, she couldn't get anything from them. M. Ambroise's guards had refused to speak to her outright. The Americans and Canadians that had come with the observation parties kept referring her to their commander, who Agnes obviously couldn't disturb while they were being hosted by Nobles.

"Order? You mean our division?"

She nodded.

"Well Sarge, looks like it's storytime for you," one of the veterans chuckled. Agnes recognized the man as being the one that did the first speech.

"I believe that introductions are needed. I'm Sergeant Jackson Hughes, 2nd Battalion, 502nd Infantry, 101st Airborne, retired. And you are?"

She bowed respectfully.

"Chevalier Agnes de Milan, Captain of Her Highness' Royal Musketeer Corps."

"Pleasure to meet yup Ma'am. "

"A sergeant, you said?" Agnes asked. She'd heard again sergeants in the Albion armies, but she had no idea what these people meant by it. The man nodded.

"I got promoted during my career in the US Army. Started out like Bobby over here."

"I see sergeant but what can you tell me about the 101st Airborne? What does 'Airborne' mean?" Agnes hadn't seen anything in this world akin to Griffons or dragon riders.

"How can I put this? Hum… We're soldiers that get dropped from the skies into battle," he said proudly, "We're called the Screaming Eagles because of that. One of the best units in the United States Army!"

"From the sky?" Agnes asked incredulously. "How? And what purpose could that possibly serve?"

"By jumping out of a perfectly good airplane!" One of the other veterans laughed, and the others joined in. Her mind raced. These men jumped out from airplanes? She was very familiar with what those were now after two visits and three flights.

"Well, we could get into some very tight places from the air. Or we could just get right behind the enemy and really ruin his day."

"Wouldn't that get you surrounded?"

"Ma'am, we're paratroopers! That's our job to be surrounded," another boasted between chuckles. Agnes had to admire such bravery even if it was a bit reckless, "Besides, we won't have to look far for the enemy!"

"I see."

That American bloodlust was showing again.

"But Ma'am, we also fight from helicopters," Hughes explained, "In fact, it was during that war that we started to do so."

"'Helicopters'?" Agnes repeated the strange word.

"Small aircraft that can fly and remain stationary in the air. They carried us into battle and helped us win with their weapons." The intrigued Agnes. One of Tristain's biggest shortcomings was its lack of air power compared to other nations. With the threat of Albion now, it was even a severe handicap.

"That answer your questions Ma'am De Milan?"

"Yes. Has the 101st fought many battles?"

She knew that certain so-called elite orders and units were little more than ceremonial guards, with only training as their experience of battle. Prince Albert III's Knights of the High Tower came to her mind.

"We've been part of the United States' vanguard against all foreign threats for over 70 years. We've fought on six continents against multiple, differents armies and against the worst scum imaginable. Most of our enemies were too scared to face us!" he explained, "All the men with me right now have fought in countless battles for our country and made through alive."

"What of the other units and orders in your army?"

"They're good but they're not us."

"What does that mean exactly?"

"Well, they'll get the job done but we'll do it better."

"I see. Thank you for your time Sergeant Hughes."

Agnes couldn't help but wonder what kind of men would join such a reckless unit. She was about to leave the veterans but a question suddenly nagged her.

"Excuse me Sergeant Hughes, but I have one last question?"

"Hmm yes?"

She cleared her throat. It was something that could be quite delicate to say the least.

"Are these funerals common for ordinary soldiers? Even from non-elite units?"

"Yes… hum but why do you ask Ma'am?"

Agnes could sense no hesitation in the old man's voice. If this were a sham, she would have noticed it in his voice. The only surprise was in his question.

"Well, such funerals in Halkeginia are only reserved for the nobility, mainly the old families," she explained matter of factly.

"Right, funerals like these are more of a modern thing," the veteran replied, "There weren't common until the last century or so, if I remember correctly."

Agnes didn't know what to say so she bid them farewell, happy that she had gotten some insight into the minds of the American soldiers. It left a deep impression on her to have taken part in such a ceremony. While her status as Chevalier of an elite unit guaranteed her at least a dignified burial on the battlefield, it didn't compare to the elaborate ceremony she had witnessed here.

Meanwhile, Henrietta and Osmond were conversing with Trump and were guarded by his guards.

"I must say that it is an elaborate ceremony," Henrietta said as she looked at the crowd, "To see such effort for a single man."

"Well your Highness, that is how Americans commemorates its fallen servicemen for their service to America."

"Such compassion… is unheard of in Halkeginia," she said simply.

"I see but perhaps you could learn a lesson or two from today," Trump proposed, "Traditions have to start somewhere your Highness."

Henrietta nodded while Osmond spoke up.

"Thank you M. Trump for allowing us to be here," the elderly scholar said, "I'll repeat myself once again but I'm happy to see that M. Jackson got to be buried in his home and that I finally have a name for my savior."

"The pleasure is mine M. Osmond though I am very happy that her Highness and you have allowed us to retrieve Private Jackson's body." Trump said, "If anything, it shows that there's potential for friendship between our countries."

"Really?!" Henrietta almost shouted.

"Yes your Highness, your presence here has already been reported by our media. Generally, this is something that the average American likes to see."

"Thank you M. Trump."

As she entered the Royal Palace of Tristania, Henrietta couldn't help but muse over the ceremony. Though sad and solemn, it had been a pleasant break from her court's intrigues. The young princess knew that she had many trials ahead of her…

 **Author's endnote: This chapter is dedicated to the brave men and women who have served or are currently serving in the armed forces of Canada and the United States as well as the rest of the Free World. May we never forget your sacrifices for our nations.**

 **This chapter is a time skip, with the next one starting exactly when Saito, Louise and Henrietta return to Tristain.**


	8. Chapter 6: Meet Your New Friends!

**Disclaimer: FoZ/ZnT belong to the departed Noboru Yamaguchi and whoever inherited the I.P.. Any real life organisation/person is merely being used in a fictional non-profit way.**

 **Author's notes: Now back to the grind. This chapter starts shortly before the funeral for PFC Jackson.**

 **As for the other Halkeginian nations… you'll start seeing them soon.**

 **Kudos to Trainalf for co-authoring this fic!**

 **Meet Your New Friends!**

Henrietta and her carriage emerged from the void of the portal between Earth and Halkeginia. The warm and sunny weather was a welcome change from the blistering cold and harsh winds of Canada.

"Feels good to be out of that cold," Saito said as he stretched himself with a yawn.

"I still can't believe people can live in a country like that," Louise said as she undid her winter coat, "It's too cold for its own good."

Saito nodded in agreement as the carriage came to a halt. Awaiting them were Louise's parents and their guards. All were dressed in their finest armour that had been shined to a brilliant sheen and on which the warm sunlight bounced off.

The Tokyo teenager gulped as he saw Louise's parents. He quickly remembered what Hayate and him had discussed quickly when the girls weren't around.

Mainly about making a good first impression on your girlfriend's family. Something Saito had probably flunked when he almost got in a duel with Eleonore. It certainly didn't help that her parents were intimidating. Lord Vallière and, surprisingly, Lady Vallière were both quite tall compared to him. He had expected Louise's mother to be short like her daughter but she towered over him.

Her pink eyes were as piercing as Louise's though Saito quickly noticed that the duke's gaze was as intense.

"Your Highness," Lord Vallière said sternly as he bowed before Henrietta, "I am quite pleased to see you returning from the other world in good health."

Henrietta nodded.

"Uncl- Lord Vallière, I thank you for your worry. I am quite happy to see that your family stands faithfully in service to the Blessed Throne of Water." she replied formally.

"Has this… endeavour of yours brought any good tidings for Tristain, your Highness?" Lady Vallière asked in a business-like tone, "What has come forth of it?"

"Yes, I have had the chance of discussing with two of the most powerful leaders of that world," she answered, "Prime Minister Justin Trudeau of Canada and President Donald Trump of the United States of America. We have come to an agreement that we will pursue talks between Tristain with the desire of improving relations."

"That is all? No alliances?"

Lord Vallière was skeptical about the claims he had heard about the other world. Especially since it came from his youngest daughter's commoner familiar.

"No, but they will be sending ambassadors and military observers to see how our nations can improve our relations. They are most interested in magic and there's a matter that concerns the Academy that we must speak of… in private Lord Vallière, Lady Vallière."

"I believe that the Academy's Royal Quarters should allow us sufficient privacy, your Highness," Lord Vallière suggested.

"Yes, I will require Old Osmond's presence as well."

* * *

Old Osmond entered the Academy's Royal Quarters alongside Agnes. She had been sent to fetch him in his office. As he entered, he saw the three Vallières, Saito and Princess Henrietta sitting around a table, waiting for him.

"Welcome Old Osmond," her Highness greeted as the headmaster was led to a seat.

"Thank you your Highness. To what do I owe this honour?"

"It's concerning that man you've found and from whom you recovered the staves of destruction," Henrietta explained, "While I was meeting with Earth's leaders, M. Saito mentioned him and they believe that he might be a soldier from one of the nations I've discussed with."

This surprised Osmond greatly.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you sure about this, your Highness?" Lord Vallière asked, "It is not a ruse of some kind?"

Louise cleared her throat.

"Pardon me Father, Mother, but I believe that Saito would be best able to explain this."

Saito looked at Louise in shock. He certainly didn't want to start talking with his girlfriend's parents like that.

"We-well, the Staff of Destruction was a weapon from Earth," he spluttered, "It's what we call an M-72 Rocket Launcher. We use it to destroy tanks."

"Tanks?" Lady Vallière asked skeptically.

"Yes, a very large… war wagon that has a canon and thick armour that can destroy-."

"But how does this relate to the man buried here, boy?" Lord Valliere interrupted.

"Well the way Old Osmond described the man, he sounded like a soldier from the United States, and that weapon is from the United States. Plus, it's kind of their property and they want it back," Saito explained quickly.

"Property?" Lady Vallière asked skeptically, "Why would they want a single weapon back?"

"Mother, they do not just want the weapon back," Louise added, "They also wish to return his body to his family."

"Is this man a noble or a hero of some kind?" Osmond asked.

"We don't know yet," Henrietta answered, "But the Americans are a proud and martial people. For them, dying in battle is a great honour that is to be commemorated."

"They sound like Germanians." There was disdain in the Duke's voice. He could respect their skill in battle but their boorish ways was appalling to him whenever he met one.

"Yes, I believe that they would get along with them." Henrietta continued, "Though I believe that such an act on our part would be beneficial in showing goodwill towards them."

"What do you mean by that? You said we haven't entered any formal treaty with them?" The duchess was wary of anything involving only goodwill.

"Their customs are quite different from ours. Alliances aren't formed overnight but through constant efforts."

"Your Highness, I believe that they are merely stalling to say no," Duke Valliere said politely, "What could they possibly gain from us after retrieving their fallen soldier?"

"They seemed interested in Tristain's wine and beer." Saito piped up, much to the noble's displeasure.

"Boy, do not speak unless asked of!" the duke scolded, "How preposterous! Building an alliance simply over wine." The Valliere's were like a lot of the nobles in thinking the princess was being overly optimistic about this new world.

"No father, my familiar is right," Louise defended, "They wanted to started trading with us for wine. The portal leads into one of Canada's greatest cities, Montreal that's known for its love of fine wines."

"Even President Trump wanted to sample some of your wine," Saito added, "He's known in our world to be a wealthy merchant before becoming the leader of the United States and saw that Tristain would be able sell its wine."

Henrietta cleared her throat, getting everyone's attention.

"They are also sending ambassadors to meet us and work out agreements. They'll be arriving in two days."

"I see," the duke harrumphed, "Still doesn't mean much but do you realize what this means?"

Henrietta didn't answer.

"Do you understand that they will need security? Something that will be difficult for us to arrange?" he remarked pointedly.

"But they'll send-" Saito was interrupted by the duke's piercing glare. Definitely where Louise got it from.

"Father please."

"They'll send their best soldiers." the Tokyo boy resumed.

"How good are these men?"

"Very good," Saito replied excitedly, "They can do things that soldiers here can't do! Like they do dangerous missions like assassinating enemy leaders in their sleep, or destroying whole camps in the middle of the night."

"Lowly assassins and cowardly saboteurs, you mean?" Not that Tristain didn't use them, but obviously such acts and associations were to avoid being admitted to.

"Euh…"

"I have faith that the ambassadors' guards will be enough and that Agnes and her Musketeers will be able to cooperate," Henrietta cut in.

"Do you realize that we will also have to organize a banquet for their arrival?" the duchess added in a chastising tone, "On such short notice."

"That won't be necessary." Henrietta said, and for that she was grateful; such events were costly.

"What? But that would an absolute lack of etiquette!" The duke was scandalized at how callous her Highness was treating this, "That would offend them gravely. To receive him like vulgar commoners!"

"The Canadians and Americans are very practical people; they don't like to bother with what they consider useless ceremony."

"Useless?" Spluttered the duchess. Or course, such events had a reason to the nobles- it was to show off their wealth, curry favours and arrange strategic weddings, among other things.

"Tell me that they received you properly at least!" the duke barked. To receive a Princess of Tristain without proper ceremony, such as a great banquet, was insulting.

"Yes, I was very well received. I stayed in the finest quarters they had for foreign dignitaries that also serves as one of the homes to one of their oldest and most revered monarchs, Queen Elizabeth II. I had the honour of having private meals with their leaders as well. Banquets are very uncommon in their world."

Both sighed in relief. The other world's customs had some degree of decency. Even if they'd been a military power, an alliance with upstart Germania had been less than desirable just because of their nobles' lack of decorum.

"Since their ambassadors will be arriving shortly, what else we will have to expect?" There was slight annoyance and resignation in Duke Vallière's voice.

"They will also send military observers to Tristain. They wish to understand how our armies fight."

Before the duke could interrupt her, Henrietta continued quickly.

"They have stated they are not interested in conquest. I haven't seen any soldiers or armies massed near the gate. They are curious in how magic works as their world possesses none of it and wish to learn more of it."

"Mother, Father," Louise chimed, "M. Trudeau suggested that their healers could meet with Cattleya to try and help her since he believes that their world might know what ails her."

"Yeah, my brother is studying to become a doctor right now. Maybe he can help?" Saito proposed, "He and his friends are working on curing a disease."

The duke snorted.

"Hmmph! A world without magic can't possibly heal what the finest Water Mages couldn't!" he said skeptically, carefully hiding his regrets.

"It is worth a try, Duke Valliere," Henrietta suggested politely, "They also wished to see if their medical sciences could work with our magic."

He nodded.

"Very well. It is worth meeting these ambassadors." the duchess said begrudgingly, "We wish to be present when they'll retrieve the soldier's body. Osmond, you do not see any issue with this?"

Osmond smiled warmly as he took a puff from his pipe.

"I don't see any issue with that." he answered, "If anything, it warms me to know that he will be buried in his homeland and that I will find out more about him."

"I shall return to the capital then to discuss with my regency council," Henrietta announced.

"Excellent, now I must attend to another pressing matter," the duke said, turning his attention to his daughter and Saito, "Your mother and I wish to speak to you Louise... and your familiar."

"Y-yes," Louise stammered as they all got up. Saito paled considerably.

* * *

The walk from Henrietta's quarters to Louise's was unnervingly quiet for the two teenagers. Louise's parents were intimidating, domineering people that caused anyone they met to get out of their way… without a word being spoken.

"We are at your quarters?" Karin asked, noticing the scorch marks on the doorway.

"Y-yes mother," Louise said as she opened the door and showed everyone to a chair or a bed corner. Once everyone had sat down, Pierre looked at Saito and Louise, his monocle shining ominously.

"We have heard…," the duke paused, "interesting things from Eleonore. That she found you kissing your commoner familiar."

Both teenagers blushed bright red.

"Is it true that he drew his sword on Eleonore?"

Before anyone could speak, another voice broke the silence.

"That blonde bitch deserved it! Partner was only defending his honour from her!"

"What in Brimir's name?!" Karin exclaimed as she scanned the room.

"Over here Milady!"

"A talking sword?!" the duke exclaimed as he saw the source of the voice.

"Derflinger the Magnificent! At your service Milord!"

"Where exactly did you procure this sword Louise?" her father asked as he began to inspect the sword, "It is quite well made and I haven't heard of any enchanted swords of its kind since the days of the Founder."

"Oh euh, Louise bought it for me as a present after I dueled Guiche."

The duke scowled.

"Louise, you must better discipline your familiar! Allowing him to duel the Gramont's youngest son?! Do you know how much trouble that could have brought us had this simpleton slain him?!"

"Yes Father! But I had just gotten him! I hadn't had the time of disciplining him yet." Louise protested.

"Your attempts at discipline seemed to have been quite lax," her mother remarked before she started scolding, "Kissing and getting into a romance him is something that is inappropriate for a daughter of the Vallière family!"

"T-that's not what it was!" Louise stammered out, "I-I was-"

"Louise! Do you think we are easily fooled?" her father snapped, "From what Eleonore has told us, it was clearly a romantic kiss that you were sharing with this useless commoner dog!"

"HEY!" Saito shouted, "Just because I'm a commoner doesn't mean I'm useless!"

Both parents stared at him.

"What have we told you about speaking out of turn boy!"

"W-well, he isn't useless! He convinced the Princess to meet with Earth's leaders! He told us about how his world was!" Louise argued, surprised that she stood up to her parents, "If it wasn't for him, we might never have met with Prime Minister Trudeau and President Trump."

"Oh? Was he the one that terrified her entire Regency council?"

The duke and duchess looked rather intrigued by this. They had heard from the Archduchess about the Americans' barbaric and warlike nature during one of their meals together at the capital.

"He also saved me from Wardes' clutches in Albion and helped me during my tasks for the princess!" she answered proudly.

"What tasks for the princess?" her mother asked, knowing all too well how the Archduchess was in her youth… and guessing that the apple hadn't fallen far from the tree. She had been in the same situation a few times.

"Euh well, she asked us to find a corrupt tax collector and had us deliver a letter to Prince Wales of Tudor."

"The same one that caused her marriage to be cancelled?"

The duchess wasn't impressed.

"If it wasn't for that dirty traitor!" Derflinger exclaimed, "Do you really think that Pinkie and partner here would have found out that he was the traitor?"

The duke had to concede it to the talking sword.

"Besides, partner here gave him his money's worth for a fight! Drove that scum off!"

"Perhaps you aren't as useless as I thought," the duke remarked begrudgingly as he scanned the room, "Where does he sleep?"

"On the floor!" Louise answered quickly, hoping her lie wouldn't show through, "I have supplied him with straw!"

The duke threw a glance at his wife whose eyes had narrowed in annoyance. She had used the exact same excuse when he first to came stay at her family home when they were younger and were courting.

"I see… where's his straw then?"

"T-the maid threw it out before we left and hasn't brought some new one."

"I see!" the duke answered imperiously, "Since our army is gathered before the academy, we would like to make use of your quarters during our stay for the next few days."

Saito groaned internally while Louise threw him an apologetic look. The next few days would be… long.

* * *

Henrietta's return to the Palace meant getting swarmed and fussed at by her regency council over her recklessness, but at least they seemed glad she'd returned safely. It wasn't long before a meeting was arranged for her to tell them what happened. Or, more accurately she felt, for her to defend her actions.

"We thank Brimir for your safe return, Princess." Cardinal Mazarin started the discussion. "After that boy's tales, he were truly fearful."

"M. Saito's tales were… unrepresentative of those country's diplomatic nature. I assure you they were quite polite." She left out M. Trump's slightly boorish behavior, at least for now. "I never felt threatened at any point of my visit." To her right, Agnes nodded.

"So the Americans weren't as barbaric as he said?" Delage asked, reassurance obvious in his voice.

"They are certainly proud of their martial prowess." Henrietta admitted. "But nothing like the violent warriors M. Saito said they were."

"What about that weapon that they shattered cities with?"

"That was quite true," she answered, "President Trump confirmed it."

"Have we an alliance with them?" her mother asked. It was the most pressing matter in her opinion, something that the others shared.

"...No." Henrietta admitted reluctantly. "Alliances are not so easily forged in their world. But we accomplished many other things during the trip." She saw her council mixed between disappointment and relief.

"Unfortunate." Justice Minister Richemont nodded. "Very well, your Highness, can you tell us all that these talks _did_ accomplish, please?"

Condescension dripped from the man's voice with every word.

"A declaration of goodwill, most importantly." Henrietta explained. "A sign from their _leaders-_ " She put emphasis on that word- "that we are all interested in working towards strengthening ties between us."

"A mere declaration of goodwill? It means very little your Highness."

"We discussed other things. Things that might impair interactions between our countries, matters of importance to both sides, _and_ in depth discussions on what we could do in the future, including trade deals and a military alliance."

"Discussions are one thing but what else?"

Archduchess Marianne merely nodded and refrained herself from smiling.

"I am quite impressed with your efforts," she said neutrally.

"And I'll have you know, I've already made arrangements with these people to come to our land for important business." Henrietta revealed. Going off to their world was one thing. But this- this was quite another.

" _What_?" Cardinal Mazarin was shocked, "By the Grace of the Almighty Founder, why have you done such a thing?!"

"Why have you not consulted with us beforehand?" her mother asked sternly, "Henrietta, this is extremely reckless. This is a time to watch our borders carefully!"

"This is a grave matter to the United States and Canada." Now Henrietta realized she had to explain the whole affair with Osmond, the Staff of Destruction, and the American who'd somehow come to their world before Saito.

"Why is this a grave matter for them?" Richemont asked, picking up his quill.

"For Canada, the portal opened in their second greatest city, Montréal. They are just as concerned about their safety as we are our own.. For the United States…" Henrietta paused for just a moment. "M. Saito is not the first person from their world to come here- someone from that nation did too, a long time ago."

"How is this possible?" Demanded Cardinal Mazarin.

"We do not know." Henrietta shook her head. "Neither of them know either. Somehow though, this portal isn't the first link between our words, only the first permanent one. Many years ago, one of their soldiers was somehow brought to Tristain. He single handedly save Old Osmond by killing a dragon that was attacking him before he passed. This is the man who wielded the Staff of Destruction. He's buried at the academy now, and the United States wants the body and the weapons back." She finished her explanation. Deathly silence followed her.

"But the Staff of Destruction was forged by Old Osmond no?" Richemont asked incredulously.

"No, Old Osmond merely kept it secret to hide its power," Henrietta continued.

"I hope they don't believe we _stole_ anything from them?" Delage pointed out, "That would be cause for concern."

"No, they merely want his body and weapons back. President Trump has insisted that we return them since his nation's customs for the dead is to be buried at home. He explained that it was to thank the fallen for their service to the United States. He also insists the Staff of Destruction is property of his government."

These Americans were slowly resembling the Germanians, much to the disdain of some the council member.

"Then why not just have someone take them to them instead of letting them come here?!"

"It is an act of goodwill." Henrietta stated firmly. "That will prove to them we are a just and trustworthy Kingdom to have dealings with."

"Or that we're weak and foolish!" Richemont barked, "Do you realize what such an agreement implies?! All of that for a mere common soldier and his weapons!"

"Minister Richemont, they are not just coming for this man. They are also sending ambassadors to negotiate agreements with us," the princess stated, "And members of their armies." If their responses before had been shocked, this topped it all. There was yelling before she could even explain fully.

"What madness has seized you?!" Delage shouted, "They will know our armies are weak!"

"No, First Minister, they have no intentions of invading us," Henrietta continued, "I have not seen any troops massed near their exit of the portal. These soldiers are coming so that they can see the situation with Albion."

"Why have you told them about Reconquista?!" Richemont was livid, "We do not need them to know about our enemies!"

Her council's stubbornness was starting to get on Henrietta's nerves.

"That they seek to invade Tristain, and that worries them greatly. They worry about losing one of their key cities should something happen to us and they would have Albion as a neighbor. If these soldiers see Albion is a serious threat, they can convince their government to send us supplies or maybe even troops! They want to work with us!"

"Henrietta, while your intentions are good, I cannot help but think you are being naive towards these nations," her mother carefully said, "We do not need another fiasco like the one with Germania."

"No, I am convinced that this is the right course of action!" Henrietta declared, her frustration clear in her voice, "I believe that I've said all I've had to say about my meeting with them!"

She huffed out of the room with Agnes in tow, much to the shock of the Regency Council.

* * *

Between Count Mott's recollection and her own experience, Henrietta knew that subtlety, not extravagance, was how people on the other side preferred to do their business. She'd said as much, but her words had apparently gone unheeded. When the day came for M. Ambroise to arrive, countless nobles had insisted to come with Henrietta to Academy to see this man themselves. All in their best clothes, their best armor, with their best horses, carriages, and guards. Henrietta could hear the various discussions between them, many wondering how they could curry favor with the Canadians.

Evidently, their disagreement with her about allowing foreigners into the country stopped when it came to personal opportunities.

Their discussions were interrupted by a rumbling sound that grew louder.

"It's coming from the Portal," one of the nobles shouted, "They must be arriving." Everyone grew quiet, and all eyes were locked on the gate. And then emerged three green horseless carriages, the large boxy kind. There was an immediate outbreak of whispering. Henrietta heard her mother softly gasp beside her.

"What are these… ungainly carriages?"

The three carriages stopped as they crossed over and stayed stationary for a moment before they startled crawling towards the gathered nobles direction. The rumbling sound made their hair stand on end. There was also some envy amongst them. Such a wondrous carriage would impress any rival. Especially the loathed Germanians. They came to a stop and their passengers began to disembark.

Richard Ambroise's appearance surprised the Tristainians with his dark skin and rather simple suit. This man was the representative of a powerful nation? He looked like a well-off commoner at best!

His guards were another story. Tall and massive, they towered over many of the Tristainian guards. Their appearance was unsettling, with their faces hidden behind masks and dark glasses. Their movements were precise and fluid despite their seemingly heavy equipment. The complete silence in which they moved also unnerved them. They uttered not a single word as they flanked their precious charge, strange muskets in hand.

Many of the gathered nobles wondered what kind of alchemy was used to forge such warriors.

Ambroise made his way to Princess Henrietta and bowed in respect, the giants moving seamlessly beside him. Some even wondered if they were not soldiers, but summoned golems.

"Welcome to Tristain Ambassador Ambroise," she greeted, "I would like to introduce you to some of the members of my court."

"Thank you your Highness. It is an honor for me to be the first Canadian official to visit your kingdom. It will be my pleasure to meet your nobility," he answered back before Henrietta began to introduce him to the gathered nobles and her mother.

Ambassador Ambroise bowed before Archduchess Marianne.

"Your Majesty, it is an honour to meet you on behalf of my country and my government. We also wish to over you our condolences for the loss of your husband and nephew."

"Thank you ambassador for your kind words."

His guards, veteran JTF2 operators, were scrutinizing the crowd. Not a single firearm amongst the Tristainian guards. Swords, spears and halberds… nothing they couldn't handle as long as they put some distance between them and the locals.

Ambroise was rapidly embroiled in invitations to the various courts and domains of the nobles. His tight knit guard detail made sure it was only one at a time though, and just that there was a clear space around the man at all times. Several of the nobles attempted to question the operators, but were only met with silence.

Henrietta watched it all from a distance, a polite public smile hiding her worry beneath. She feared the impression this was making on the Canadian ambassador, to say nothing of the often trumped up information he was being told. The man remained polite, nodding and smiling as he listened to the gathered nobles. She was also worried about them, both the ones who'd yet to come up to greet the man or showed clear distaste at being blocked by his guards. They looked quite similar to the town guards from their world, but subtly different yet vastly more intimidating. Mainly, their armour and clothes were green and their hidden faces only served to make them more imposing.

"Princess Henrietta, I wish to suggest an arrangement that could be interesting for your court," Ambroise had made his way over to her, flanked by his men.

"Yes, what do you suggest Ambassador?"

"My American counterpart will arrive in a few days and I will discuss with him if it's possible for us to organize a banquet to allow us to better talk with the lords and ladies. Would you be interested in such a proposition?"

Some of the gathered nobles suddenly looked more interested while Ambroise pressed on. "It'd also serve as a culture exchange of sorts; you could try some of our food and us yours."

"Please your Highness," a noble proposed, "This would be a great opportunity for us." Henrietta relented, silently thanking the Canadians for giving her an opportunity to appease her own people.

"I believe that such a banquet would be a wonderful occasion."

* * *

It was difficult for anyone on the continent to know what was going on in Albion even during peacetime; it's location made it difficult for any spy to arrive in the country without first facing border guards, and merchants weren't exactly privy to important information. With most traffic between the floating island and the continent halted in the aftermath of the Civil War, it was more or less impossible now.

But for anyone who cared to know, the answer was poorly. The war had not left any area untouched, and no man noble or commoner had been able to keep out of it. It'd been neighbor against neighbor, all over loyalty to the House of Tudor or Cromwell's teachings. Towns had been looted, farms and noble manors burned down. Thousands killed by sword, magic, hunger and disease.

But despite all that, the country was still functioning. Mostly. While sympathizers to the crown were still being hunted, Albion rebuilt. Trials were being held against those who had collaborated with the deposed Tudors, whether they were civilian or military.

Roads were repaired, crops were planted, and those who'd been on the winning side were compensated for their efforts. A lot of this help was coming from the Reconquista armies, which had not been allowed to disband even after victory. They were being kept together, and with good reason.

Londinium, The Capital of the newly proclaimed "Holy Republic of Albion" was under heavy guard, with troops and battle mages patrolling the streets. Its new leader was standing atop of one of the balconies of the rechristened Republican Palace. He breathed in a deep breath and felt the air had a pleasantness to it. He could sense that he was coming closer to his goals

"Lord-Protector."

A voice interrupted Cromwell's musings.

"Yes Sheffield?" he answered, seeing his purple haired secretary appear in his office, "You may speak."

She bowed her head respectfully and took a knee.

"We have received ill news from Airlann," she reported, "The locals are proving to be quite… rebellious against your holy authority and are foolishly clinging to the old teachings."

"Have they done anything yet?" he asked urgently. He did not want an uprising so quickly after taking power.

The woman sighed in exasperation.

"They have murdered some of our loyal servants," she continued, "Our forces there report great unrest amongst the Airlannese. They have already taken measures to secure the ports and roads for reinforcements to quell any uprising but await further instructions."

"Very well, we must break their resistance," Cromwell ordered as he left the balcony and returned inside, "Summon the generals and marshals for a meeting as soon as possible. We must avenge our murdered kin."

"Understood Lord-Protector," Sheffield replied, "I also have news from Tristain."

"What is happening there? Have any of our allies gotten closer to controlling Henrietta?" Sheffield looked troubled.

"No. In fact, Lord-Protector, I've heard nothing but absurd things from that kingdom. Were they not corroborated by multiple sources, I'd think them fabrications of a delusional fool."

"Go on." Cromwell urged. Even though Albion had yet to be fully brought under his wisdom, he was thinking ahead to Tristain. Conquering those lands would be his foothold on the mainland, a major milestone in his plans. In fact, despite the setbacks caused by that cursed girl and her allies, he was certain they could take control of Tristain even now.

"There are reports of a...portal that has cropped up within their borders. A portal to another world filled with powerful kingdoms. Allegedly, these powerful kingdoms are seeking diplomacy with Princess Henrietta." Sheffield finished, and watched the man who'd slaughtered most of the Albion line of succession for his reaction.

"What do our allies know of them?" he asked calmly.

"They are supremely wealthy. One of our allies has even managed to visit their land of Canada." She revealed. "It is very vast, but extremely cold. They are able to travel the great distances with magical, horseless carts. He claims that despite the harshness of the weather, these Canadians have built a massive city with great glass towers that stretched high in the sky that dwarfs even the greatest cathedrals of Romalia. It sounds almost preposterous but he was adamant about what he witnessed. He's been telling it to anyone who'll listen and gallivanting around with a life-like portrait of him that he claims was painted instantly."

Cromwell sat down and began to write notes.

"Their society is also a strange one. There are men and women with skin of odd colors. Our spy has met with one whose skin was as dark as the night. There seems to be no line between commoners and nobles, men or women. Their leaders are plain and low on etiquette."

"Low on etiquette?"

"They are very lax on ceremony, preferring expediency."

"I see. What are they planning? The Canadians?" Cromwell asked, "Have they agreed to any alliances?"

Sheffield shook her head.

"They and their American allies have sent ambassadors to Tristain. The American one has yet to arrive. They are there to negotiate but it seems they haven't signed any treaties. Only something called the 'Ottawa Declaration of Goodwill.' If anything, it resembles a stalling tactic with vague promises. Henrietta is also unable convince her Regency council to assist her with talks with these nations."

"That is good news." Cromwell nodded approvingly. Sheffield still looked uneasy.

"There is...troubling news though, Lord-Protector." He motioned for her to go on. "On her own volition, Princess Henrietta has invited members of these two nations' militaries into her lands." Now he was paying rapt attention. "Apparently, she has convinced these two nations that we are evil, and that they do not want us to have access to the portal. Supposedly, these observers will report back to their governments on if we're a threat. If we are, then allegedly they'll send Tristain supplies or possibly even soldiers to assist them in a fight against us."

Cromwell was silent for a moment. This was indeed quite an unexpected development.

"I see." He said at last. "These nations are powerful, you said?"

"Their armies are not structured like any our agent has ever seen. They apparently rely overwhelmingly on muskets." A whole army based on an ineffectual, commoner weapon? Hardly challenging for the experienced Reconquista armies and their mages.

"And her council- do they back this decision?"

"No, Lord-Protector. They are quite furious about it."

"Then it is not a serious problem." Cromwell dismissed. "She doesn't have full power. They will likely be chased out given time. And if not." He turned to look out at a wrecked part of the city. "We can always deceive the observers. And if they are worried about this portal, we can merely destroy it and sate them once we control Tristain. I care not for other worlds, Sheffield." He looked over the untouched parts of the city, only a measly portion of what would soon be his. "Only ours."

* * *

"What do you think of these Americans and Canadians, Marshal Gramont?" Lord Vallière asked as he and his old comrade in arms walked in the hallways of the Royal Palace of Tristain. The dying light filtered through the windows of the palace showed that the end of day was coming.

It'd been a week since these foreign soldiers arrived and nearly two since M. Ambroise had arrived. All that time entertaining both had left many of Tristain's nobles with various thoughts. Thoughts that they were about to carry into this banquet now the Princess Henrietta had returned from the otherworldly funeral.

"I do not like what I have seen about these outlanders." the Marshal replied simply, "They have no idea how to discuss properly with nobles!"

"Many members of the court share your opinion, Robert. They have tried to discuss with the ambassadors, M. Ambroise and M. Fitzgerald but so far, they have proven to be polite but distant. Neither seemed to engage in any deals."

Other nobles were walking in the hallway around towards the reception hall.

"I see, Centurion. It is strange that they were willing to host a banquet," Gramont explained, "I have heard that they are quite simple people. Apparently, the ambassadors wear very simple black clothes."

The duke nodded in agreement.

"Lady Vallière and I have met with their soldiers and their officers when they arrived to retrieve their fallen soldier. Their officers dress identically with their soldiers."

"How did that go old friend? I was unable to pull my army from the Gallian border. King Joseph has been moving his men around again according to my scouts," Gramont said.

"They are a strange and silent sort. The reverence with which they worked was very unusual."

"All of that for a single man?"

His friend nodded.

"He was a low ranking footman." That wasn't the oddest thing yet, but it was up there.

"What else of these foreigners?" Gramont pressed on.

"While you were watching the border, we had to entertain them in the Capital. They wanted an example of our Army, so the princess called forth the nobles to show off their forces. Obviously, ours was the first."

"And were they impressed?" the marshall asked.

"Hmph! It was almost insulting for us!" Vallière grunted, "Our finest footmen, cavalrymen and cannon showed off their full might yet nothing impressed them!"

"I see...did we learn anything of their armies?" As a border guard, he'd been late in learning many of the happenings. Also as a border guard, the fact foreigners were being allowed into the country so willingly struck a chord with him. He at least hoped there was an equal trade, and the Princess wasn't just handing them everything.

"Very little. They rely entirely on strange muskets with telescopes on them. They also have those wagons to move their forces around, rather than by foot or horse. They move very swiftly without any external force. Her Highness claims that it is not magic that propels them forward."

"How is her Highness doing in all of this?" Gramont asked, curiosity in his voice.

"Very well, she has returned from her second trip to Earth a few days ago and has been conversing with the ambassadors on a regular basis," Duke Vallière answered as he sat down on a bench where his wife was waiting, dress in a fine purple dress that complemented her pink hair. The rest of the nobles were gathered at the great doors leading to the hallways.

"Greeting Marshal Gramont," Lady Vallière said bowing her head in respect, "Is Lady Gramont accompanying you today?"

"Greetings milady," the man replied, "My dear wife is currently indisposed at the moment. She has gotten ill but it is nothing serious."

"Please send her my wishes of prompt recovery," she replied, "It is quite unfortunate that she is unable to be present."

"Thank you Lady Vallière," the marshal answered, "Put on the matter at hand: Have these discussion led to anything? I have overheard that they've wanted to offer either aid or deals with us."

"So they insist!" scoffed the Duke disdainfully, "The Princess claims it. They claim it. But nobody has seen anything. I've talked with Count De Grandpré and he heard that not even the Regency Council has seen anything."

"Then what is the blasted point of all of this then?!" Marshal Gramont ranted, "Are they merely wasting our time?"

"The princess insists that these people build trust and alliances over time," the duchess explained, "That is normal in their world for such things to take time. I find it difficult to believe given their… disdain of ceremony."

The sound of opening doors suddenly caught all the nobles' attention. A chamberlain emerged and announced that the banquet was started. The aristocrats were then led into the hall where the smell of luxurious food filled their noses. Upon their entrance, they noticed that the usual palace staff was working alongside men and women dressed in black and white clothing.

"Is it true then that the Americans and Canadians have brought their servants with them?" a noble remarked as he scanned the tables before them. The nobles noticed the two ambassadors sitting with the Regency council and Henrietta. Louise was also there, dressed in her finest dress with her familiar garbed with fairly good clothing. The ambassadors were talking with them.

"Why is your youngest daughter present Centurion?" Gramont whispered after he saw Louise.

"Her Highness has insisted that Louise be present given her familiar's assistance in this whole situation," the duke explained much to Grammond's astonishment, "Her familiar is reportedly from that world and advised her Highness to respond to their invitation."

"I see."

The three nobles were led to their seats that were close to the front, as befitting of their important status in Tristain. The two stood out with their simple clothes. Dark blue vests and pants, a piece of cloth tied around their necks. Once everyone had entered, a herald introduced the two men.

"Most esteemed and noble members of the court of Tristania, it is with great honour that I introduce you to Ambassadors Richard Ambroise of Canada and Thomas Fitzgerald of the United States of America! We welcome them to our capital and Royal Palace."

There was a round of polite applause.

Ambassador Fitzgerald was a man with greying, light blond hair. His overall appearance indicated that he was a well traveled man with brown eyes that shone with intelligence. Behind him stood two men in black clothes that were similar to his. Their eyes were hidden by black glasses while Ambroise had his… humanlike golems not too far from him.

"Thank you for your greeting," Fitzgerald said as he stood up, "It is my pleasure to be present amongst you. I look forward to discussing with you during the course of this evening. M. Ambroise, I believe that you have a few words for our gracious hosts."

"Thank you Ambassador Fitzgerald, I hope that you will enjoy the food we have brought from our nations. Our staff will be serving various delicacies from our lands as well as some of our finest spirits."

This piqued the nobles' curiosity.

"I almost forgot but accompanying us are Colonels Hamilton and Roberts. They are to represent our armies." Fitzgerald added as he pointed to the two men.

"So that is how they dress outside their armour?" Gramont whispered to Duke Vallière, "It is quite...simplistic."

"Believe me, it is an improvement over their battle dress," the duchess commented dryly, "They dress identically to their common soldiers."

"How preposterous! How can they expect to maintain order and discipline?" Gramont said, scandalized, "Have they no shame?"

"Somehow, their men follow every command they give," the duke answered, "With no hesitation."

His friend was intrigued as he scrutinized the two men. They were dressed similarly to what the ambassadors wore except for the many ribbons, medals and other insignias as well as the hats the colonels wore.

"I am quite curious about their decorations," the duke said, noting the more decorated American uniform, "Especially Colonel Hamilton's. He looks to be a seasoned warrior if the amount of decorations are any sign."

"Have you managed to get anything out of him?" the marshal asked as he saw the food being brought out by their servants.

"Very little. I know that both serve in their kingdom's armies despite not leading any men. Colonel Roberts teaches their future officers while Colonel Hamilton has been rather… vague about his duties to the United States." Duchess Vallière said, "Let us hope that we might be able to discuss with them later this evening."

The feast was impressive, to say the least. The Americans and Canadians had spared no expense when it came to food, wine and fine spirits. Their chefs had brought familiar courses such as beef and pork but also a massive bird called a turkey as well as fish that the Tristainians were unfamiliar with. The alcohol that they had brought helped the evening more pleasant. Even the ambassadors had begun to 'loosen up' and began discussing openly about possible trade ideas with the nobles. Dessert was a luxurious affair with fine pastries and cakes sweetened with flavors unknown to the Tristainians. The more military-minded nobles gathered around the colonels to swap tales of past battles.

As the night went on, many discussions were had about their respective worlds with subjects varying wildly though it seemed that both sides were on better terms. the ambassadors were especially pleased with the various proposals that had come from the nobles . Although it seemed clear they were more interested in getting coin for the resources on their lands than helping the throne.

The discussions between men of military responsibility were more serious, although as the night got longer the alcohol made them a little less coherent.

"Those are quite a lot of medals, I must say, Colonel Hamilton. What are they for?" Duke Vallière asked as he eyed the various decorations. "Are they for past battles?"

"Many things in fact." The colonel was vague. "Some are for combat services. Some are an award for personal conduct. There are some for mastering certain aspects of warfare. And a few are even from other nations as a thank you for aiding them."

"Interesting." The Duke acknowledged. "You men are both 'Colonels', correct?" The two nodded. "I have not heard of such a rank. How is it gained?"

"Through decades of services to our nations' armies, Duke Vallière," Colonel Roberts answered, sipping on a glass of ice cider.

"We don't have such a rank here. Neither of you are field commanders, is that true?" That question came from Gramont.

"It can be. In our armies, colonels can command around 5,000 soldiers." He missed the noble's surprised faces and continued. "Or they can serve in high staff positions."

"'Staff positions'?" another asked curiously.

There was a brief pause where both colonels took a moment to gather their thoughts. "Our armies are very large and very complex. They can only fight because a lot of men don't fight and organize many vital aspects. That's what we do."

"Is it perhaps you men are too poor to raise your own forces?" Another Tristanian noble to the side sneered snobbishly. The man had clearly enjoyed the most alcohol of all of them there.

"On the contrary, our nation's treasury is vast that we don't need to raise our forces and nor do we need to buy our ranks," Colonel Hamilton replied dryly, "My nation is so wealthy that not only are my men well fed, clothed and armed with the finest weapons available but their mothers can send them homemade cakes and my men can enjoy while there are still fresh! Even if they are in campaigns on the other side of the world!"

The noble spluttered. That was not the answer he'd expected.

"There are more important things to an army then just having combat forces." His Canadian counterpart went on. "Training a cadre of loyal and competent officers is key in maintaining supremacy on the battlefield."

"Does that task not fall upon the heads of families?" Duke Vallière asked with Marshal Gramont nodding in agreement, "Any noble worth his title in Tristain trains his sons with the skills necessary to battle."

"No," Colonel Roberts shook his head, "Such practices have been obsolete in our armies for centuries. Any man with the mental and physical aptitude can be trained to be an officer."

"But why?"

"It ensures coherent forces, competency and, most importantly in my opinion, loyalty to our army," Roberts explained, "I teach the history of Canada's wartime exploits so that my cadets learn to be proud of our nation's feats of arms and from the mistakes of past commanders so that our soldiers don't suffer needlessly on the battlefield."

"Wouldn't that dilute the lessons taught generation after generation?" Lady Vallière asked, "For example, a father can teach his sons strategy and tactics so that they may do the same."

"I understand your explanation, Duchess Vallière," Roberts replied, "But teaching in such a way limits who can learn whereas my country's military academies allow their teachers to share all their experiences with their students, allowing more to learn from past successes and failures. Experience is shared between all, resulting in a pool of knowledge common to all officers."

"Interesting system, I must say," she commented.

"The way you are talking, does that a man can be a revered member of the military without even stepping on a battlefield?" One noble inquired curiously while the rest were shook over that revelation.

Hamilton nodded.

"Yes, one of our greatest generals, Dwight D. Eisenhower, was very revered for a long time even though he never personally led men on a battlefield. Despite that, he was the key architect of victory during one of the greatest campaigns our army had ever faced. After retiring from the Army, Eisenhower became the leader of our country for a few years during which he brought our nation great wealth and progress. However, to enter our military, one still has to fit certain physical and mental criteria which we uphold dearly."

The gathered nobles were stupefied by these words. It was beyond most of their comprehension. The colonels were aware of this, and the fact that is they talked even more, they'd probably lose their hosts completely. So they changed the subject.

"Enough about our armies though. Magic is important in your society, correct? Does it have any military applications?"

"Important does not begin to cover the Blessing of Brimir!" Duke Vallière declared fiercely, "All nobles are mages. It is what separates us from the commoners. As for battles, we nobles proudly lead Tristain's armies where our magic helps us prevail over our foes."

"How does magic become a weapon?" Colonel Roberts asked, "Earth doesn't use magic but there are legends and stories of mages turning the tides of battles with their powers. I was wondering if your magic is similar to the one in our stories."

The North American officers listened as the nobles described the various uses of magic on a Halkegenian battlefield. It ranged from Wind mages propelling ships and summoning tornadoes, to Earth mages erecting barriers to protect their troops and turning the soil beneath their enemy to mud or quicksand, to the relative familiar idea of a Fire mage tossing fire balls to incinerate enemy formations and detonating powder bags to Water mages healing wounded and using water to incapacitate firearms. Mages were relatively rare however, with them making up the majority of military leaders. Tristain was peculiar as it had the highest number of mages compared to commoners in Halkeginia. Both men were here to learn of warfare in this land and so they listened with great interest, having reduced their consumption of alcohol.

So far they'd seen nothing too worrying. Arquebuses and muskets were weapons that once existed on Earth and had gone out of fashion long ago. But these conversations made it clear there were things not so easily dismissed- things they'd have to seriously think about if they wanted to be involved in this world.

During all this time these conversations were happening, be they over business or battle, the American and Canadian catering staff were carefully listening as they worked...

* * *

Back on earth, the American and Canadian governments were performing their functions with much less extravagance. Unknown to the Tristainians, word had gotten back from the military observers that it was immediately safe on the other side, confirming Ambroise's dispatches, and that talks could proceed further. Most importantly… it wasn't a hoax. And so each side had already sent the appropriate instructions to its diplomats.

For the Canadians and Americans though, there was another matter to discuss. In their continued analysis of Halkagenia's parallels to earth, they'd discovered something regarding the Cromwell of Albion that kept being brought up. He was suspiciously similar to a 'real' figure from British history: Oliver Cromwell. A very despised figure from British history, as they learned when they consulted their allies across the Atlantic. So despised in fact, that their British contacts were snarling openly as they talked of him… something generally unseen when it came to the usually polite people.

They had described with detail the atrocities that Earth's Cromwell had committed. Notably how his name was thrice-cursed in Ireland for his deeds. His religious extremism was reminding the Americans and Canadians of ISIS and certain nations. Something that was uncomfortable to both governments. The British had pledged that would support any action against Halkeginia's Cromwell, should this one prove to be a danger like they feared.

Amazing what weight a name could carry.

"So gentlemen, while our agents in Halkeginia are having a grand time at a medieval banquet, we have a new matter to attend to." Devers said. He and other members of the CIA and Harper from CSIS were gathered in an meeting room in CSIS's headquarters in Ottawa. Harper turned on a screen at the end of the room. revealing an old painting.

"This is Oliver Cromwell from Earth," the Canadian agent said as the gathered personnel look at the portrait. The man had long brown hair and wore shining metal armour.

"As you may have read in the briefings supplied to you, he is a man that was known for his brutal reign in the United Kingdom during the 1650's. Thankfully, he's dead. On Earth that is," Harper explained, "Our new… friends in Tristain however have claimed that a suspiciously similar man exists there and rules over their version of the United Kingdom."

"One of our first tasks, gentlemen, will be to build a case file on this man. He will be our main priority though the other monarchs of Halkeginia will be investigated as well," Devers continued, "Cromwell is our number one threat for the moment since him and Reconquista have their eyes on Tristain and, by extent, control of our new border."

Harper changed the image on the screen to reveal a picture of a small castle like structure. A single great tower with five smaller ones around.

"You can see here the Tristain Academy of Magic. According to reports, it is an internationally reputed institution where nobles from all the Halkeginian kingdoms go to," Harper explained, "This tells something important about how their societies work. Nobility is determined by their magic. This photo ties in with the core task we have to face: understanding this new world. How it thinks and how it runs. That way we'll make sure that we'll always be two steps ahead of them." He turned to everyone gather, and the tone of his voice hammered in how serious what he said next was.

"We have a lot of work to do."

* * *

It had been been nearly 2 months since the portal appeared now. Life progressed surprisely much the same as it had before. Nothing world breaking had really changed yet. There had been a bit more travel from the other world to Tristain. So far, it was no pure civilians, mostly government employees like from the Canadian Crown Corporations, such as the Société des Alcools du Québec (SAQ), and various members from the US Trade Agencies that investigated the possibilities. No big deals had been signed yet, but negotiations were underway despite cultural clashes.

A multinational contingent of verified scientists had also been allowed through. Many were currently at the Tristain Academy of Magic, and another contingent was in the Capital itself. They were fast at work beginning to learn the workings of this world's environment, society, and 'magic'.Their findings were already being published in scientific journals on Earth, further stoking interest in this world. The learning was mostly one way at the moment though- most of the elites of Tristain weren't exactly willing to be told much of what they thought of the world was wrong.

And in the capital, a political outpost was slowly being established.

Officially, it was a joint American/Canadian consulate and both flags flew over the building. In practice, it didn't have the staff or many of the functions of a consulate. It was still the ambassadors and the officer parties, along with their new guard details- members of the Canadian Forces Military Police, and the United States Marine Security Regiment. This was because the building was simply a repurposed manor in the Capital's affluent neighborhoods near the Royal Palace.

There were talks for a full embassy for each nation, but that would take time. Needless to say, building a normal embassy in a world that still used brick and mortar and had no electricity would be difficult. Just buying the land would be difficult. This manor had technically been gifted from the Crown, although both governments had promised eventual repayment. For now, the manor had enough beds and rooms. It was also close enough to the palace to be practical.

Of course, it had undergone some renovations to accommodate certain basic needs. The former servant quarters had been renovated into the appropriate barracks and arms storage for the Military and DSS personnel. The bedrooms had been renovated to serve as offices for the Ambassadors, military officers, and intelligence agents. A wooden garage had been built for diplomatic vehicles. It even had some generators supplying electricity for essentials like lighting, surveillance and communications equipment- an antenna had been installed to communicate with the one erected near the portal and hardwired through the void.

Most of it had gone into security though. The outside stone fence had been topped with barbed wire. A guard booth was built at the entrance. Windows had been barred and the glass had been replaced by bulletproof glass. One cellar had been converted into a safe room. Another was a monitoring center for security cameras that had been hooked up to the interior and exterior. Wiring those through the walls had been the most frustrating undertaking due to the manor's rodent population being unwilling to be evicted at first.

On the outside it still looked like a luxury manor mostly bar the unusual fence. But it was now a small fortress. Henrietta had arranged for some Musketeers to guard the exterior portions of the manor. It was yet another act to improve relations, as well prevent Tristain's nobles or commoners from being too interested in the foreigners.

It was to this building that Saito and Louise were traveling to one afternoon, having been invited by Ambassador Ambroise. Their carriage had just entered the compound after being scrutinized by both Canadian and American security details. Dogs had also sniffed out the carriage for anything usual.

"Welcome M. Hiraga, Lady Vallière," The ambassador greeted as they disembarked from their carriage. Louise curtsied while Saito and Ambroise shook hands.

"Hello sir, how are you doing?" Saito asked as he and Louise were led into the building.

"Quite well, thank you and you?"

"We are doing fine Ambassador," Louise answered politely.

"Excellent, I have some people that wish to speak to you about Albion," Ambroise explained, "Her Highness has recommended you since you've been there recently. I've also vouched for you since you have shown yourselves to be quite skilled."

This lifted their spirits quite a bit.

"T-thank you Ambassador!" Louise exclaimed, not used to such praise.

"It was nothing sir," Saito added.

"Right this way, I was about to have a light snack and I presume that you would like a few refreshments after your trip from the Academy," Ambroise suggested warmly, "The dining room is this way."

"Oh by the way," Saito said, gratefulness in his tone, "Thank you for setting up that mailing system with my family M. Ambroise."

"It's no problem M. Hiraga. It's the least we could do to thank you for your efforts. Did the last package reach you safely?"

The teenager nodded.

"Yes, thank you very much for asking sir."

As they walked down the hallways, Saito could recognize some familiar Earth appliances that had been installed. Lights were the most notable additions.

"Here we are," Ambroise said, entering a small but functional dining room. Inside were two men waiting for them. One was dressed in civilian clothing while the other was wearing a green t-shirt and camo pants, similar to the American guards. Both had their pistols holstered with them. A pitcher of cold lemonade had been set on the table while a bowl of fruits and another bowl of sweets laid next to it.

"Good day to you," the soldier said enthusiastically as he went to shake Saito's hand, "I couldn't wait to meet you both. Please make yourselves at home."

"Euh, thank you sir," Saito said as he and Louise sat.

"I think you forgot to introduce yourself," the other man said with a light chuckle as he placed down a bowl of popcorn, "Name's Ian Stanford."

"Oh sorry about that, I'm Simon Anders."

"Are you spies?" Saito asked excitedly.

The agents laughed warmly.

"You are quite perceptive young man!" Anders said, grinning, "Not a really a spy but an agent."

Louise snorted with a sly grin on her face.

"Sometimes. Most of the time he's quite dense."

"Louise!"

"I hate to break up your little moment Lady Vallière, M. Hiraga," a grinning Stanford interrupted as he produced a file, "But we would like to discuss about what you know of Reconquista's agents. We noticed this woman sulking around the building at odd hours. Think you know her?"

He pulled out a picture of a green haired woman. "We've shown this picture to her Highness and she believes that it could be Fouquet of the Crumbling Earth. She referred you to us to confirm or not, since I believe you have experience with her?"

"That's her!" Louise exclaimed, "She tried to steal the Staff of Destruction from the Academy!"

"M. Hiraga?"

"I-It's her alright," Saito answered nervously, "She's very dangerous. Every time I fought her, she summoned a giant Earth golem to attack us!" The agents suddenly looked grave and serious.

"Tell us more then," They urged, "Especially about the golems."

* * *

While they were all talking, the green-haired woman in question was watching the consulate building from the yard of another nearby manor. Fouquet had been ordered back to Tristania by her superiors with a new task: To gather intelligence on the new people in Halkeginia. A trip into a tavern had given her all the information she needed about this odd new building.

She could see guards at the entrance, the Princess' Musketeers walking rounds outside the fence, but no guards patrolling the yard inside the fence. The Musketeers were nothing but upstart commoners, nothing that Fouquet feared. Getting inside wouldn't be difficult at all- she need only to turn to dust the stone fence and then an appropriate sized hole in the wall, a quick and quiet feat for her Earth magic. Once she was inside, she was sure she could find something of interest.

This was very risky, but her efforts so far were fruitless. Initially, she'd gone after the scholars from the other world. But they could show her nothing except how stupid these outsiders truly were. They were little more than excited children on Founder's day, constantly in awe at the most mundane of magic while their Tristainian counterparts were gawking at the other world's trinkets and baubles. They also tended to be surrounded by guards or other nobles too, so she couldn't confront them.

The people at this building seemed to be either here, or at the palace, traveling quickly between the two in a horseless carriage, no place she could see them. Her masters would be impatient, so she needed something fast. She decided this was her best bet- it was definitely more lightly guarded than the Royal Palace. And if it was their home or outpost, she was sure to find something of value- documents, orders, maps, something. It was the middle of the day, but she'd seen someone leave earlier with their retinue, so she was certain there wouldn't be that many people.

Unknown to her, her every moves were being watched by the security cameras. In the cellar, two men dressed in combat uniforms, one Canadian, one American were looking at the screens when they noticed the same green-haired woman that lurked around standing before the northern wall. All the shifts were familiar with her, as was the response- documenting and reporting it.

"All teams, be advised, we're seeing a SP near the Northern wall. Send a quick message to the Musketeers, it's that green-haired woman again- What the _FUCK_?! She's collapsed the fucking Northern wall!"

"They've breached the wall! Say again, we have a perimeter breach!"

* * *

A klaxon rang out in the building, disrupting the conversation.

In the dining room, Saito and Louise were suddenly aware of an uproar that overtook the building. Shouting and pounding feet as the security personnel reacted. "Saito, what's happening?" Louise asked fearfully. By the look on their faces, the intelligence agents didn't know either.

Suddenly some DSS agents pounded through the room with the American staff, guiding them through the dining room, into the kitchen, and down into the cellars.

Four JTF2 operators burst into the room.

"Ambassador! There's an intruder. We need to move you to the safe room!" the leader looked at Louise and Saito, "You two are coming with us!"

"Eh?!"

Ambroise nodded as he got up. The two agents drew their guns.

"We'll help with the security," Anders declared cooly as he and Stanford ran out the room, "You guys get them to safety."

In a blur, the occupants of the dining room were running as fast as they could. Unfortunately, Louise had dressed for an important meeting.

"Waah!"

That meant a cumbersome dress which caused her to trip and fall face first on the stone floor.

One of the JTF2 operators looked back as he heard the sound of falling noblewoman.

"TABARNAK!" he swore and glanced at Saito, "Boy! Pick up your fucking girlfriend _now_!"

"Euh sure," he grabbed a stunned Louise in a bridal carry and tried to keep up with the running ambassador and soldiers. The Canadian stayed behind them, rifle ready for any threat that might appear.

They finally made it into the safe room. The massive metal door slammed shut behind them as they got. It was a plain room. A small fridge sat in the corner with water containers near it. There were a few people in the room, mostly staff but also the ambassador and his guard. Saito set Louise down on the floor. Meanwhile, one of the guards was on the radio.

"The Canadian Ambassador and all staff have been secured. Someone contact the team at the Royal Palace. Get the American Ambassador secured!"

"Are you injured Lady Vallière?" the same JTF2 operator who'd seen her fall asked, with one of the DSS agents opening a first kit.

"What happened to her?" he asked, making his way to her, "Oh dear, you've got a cut on your cheek Milady. Are you able to stand?"

"Thank you for your worry but I should- ow!" Louise winced, collapsing back on the floor.

"I think you might have injured your ankle Lady Vallière," the agent diagnosed.

Louise pouted in annoyance. It was just her luck.

* * *

Fouquet stepped through the hole she'd created into one of the manor's hallways, for a moment satisfied with what she thought was a silent and unnoticed entry. Then she started hearing the occupants' shouting and running feet, some of it ominously close.

' _Damn!'_

She must've been spotted from a window or something- they knew she was here. Just as that thought crossed her mind, two people appeared at one end of the hallway.

With a wave of her wand and an incantation, the wall she'd previously turned to dust reformed into a barrier and now blocked the hallway and the two men. She intended to escape while the fools clawed their way through it. The two Marines on the other side of the wall had seen her, and they'd been briefed on the nature of magic and how to respond. So they opened fire.

A volley of 5.56 rounds tore through the wall and struck a stunned Fouquet in the left elbow and her left leg before she cried out and collapsed at the same time as her cover. She saw her wand fall out of her hand and roll out of reach. The Marines ceased their firing when they saw the intruder go down.

"Command, team 3. Be advised, we've neutralized the intruder. They're a mage. Say again, they have magic, how copy?"

The two kept their distance from the woman but had their weapons fixed on her. A trio of Canadian MP's ran up from behind the Americans, their C8 Carbines trained on her as they advanced towards her.

"This is Team 2, intruder's weapon has been secured!" one reported as he picked up the wand.

"Intruder secured! She's still breathing!" Another noticed, "Get a medic over here! We need her alive!". The woman's eyes were wide with shock and she was immobile as blood pooled around her, but definitely breathing.

"Teams 2 and 3, hold position. Security teams are securing the building and perimeter."

More Americans and Canadians arrived behind them or at the opposite end of the hall, and a few teams headed outside to secure the breaches in both walls.

It was only about then that the Musketeers realized something was wrong as they saw the other guards running hurriedly. They quickly ran over to the breach where the men when converging. One nearly got her head blown off by poking it through the portion of the outer wall that had turned to dust.

"What the hell woman?!"

"What happened here?" She asked.

"Some fucking green haired bitch collapsed the fucking wall!" One of the otherworldly soldiers snapped at her. The Musketeer paled as she noticed the very serious expressions on the other men.

"We need to send a messenger to the Princess!" She ordered her companion. They'd been entrusted to help guard these people and they failed. Agnes had told them of the importance of this job and the severe repercussions Tristain could face if they failed.

And now it looked as if they were about to face them.

* * *

 **Author's endnote: What a mess!**

 **As always, hoped you guys enjoyed it. Please read and review.**

 **Trivia and info: Earth Cromwell's portrait is the one from Wiki. Feel free to google him and Airlann…**

 **Crown Corporations are companies owned by the Canadian federal and provincial governments. They are in charge of certain services in Canada that range from museums to… the selling of alcohol. In that regards, that is why the Société des Alcools du Québec (Quebec Alcohol Corporation) is interested in negotiating with Tristain. They are in charge of selling alcohol and getting new products to sell. Hence their mention and presence here.**

 **C8's are Canadianized M4's modified for the Canadian Forces' needs and requirement.**


	9. Chapter 7: What a Mess!

**Disclaimer: FoZ/ZnT belong to the departed Noboru Yamaguchi and whoever inherited the I.P.. Any real life organisation/person is merely being used in a fictional non-profit way.**

 **Author's note: Well shit's getting real eh? As always, thanks to Trainalf for co-authoring this fic.**

 **I like to thank people who give suggestions in the reviews as well. Do remember that we don't use them all since they might not fit the plot/narrative though. Don't take offense though.**

 **What a Mess!**

"We're very eager to get some trade deals approved, your Highness, but it will require a high degree of cooperation." M. Fitzgerald explained from the other side of the parlor table. At the other end of the room behind him were two of his guards. Likewise, Agnes and another Musketeer were at the end of the room behind Henrietta.

"I understand." Princess Henrietta nodded. It was not the first time the American Ambassador had told her this. When it came to doing business with this other world, something that they called 'centralization and standards' was key, they told her. To summarize, many of the discussions of the past weeks had been them gently prodding the princess to exert some authority over the nobles of the land or her ability to do so, ensuring a deal of consistency across all of Tristain when it came to certain practices.

The concept fascinated her. It'd be extremely difficult, she knew, but she thought it was possible. Clearly, many nobles had put aside their grievances and wanted to work with these people. Maybe even enough to allow her more power. If Henrietta wound up as the person who held everything together, she felt her position of Tristain's ruler would no longer be in doubt. She might finally even get her coronation.

Near the door, the DSS agents got word of what had happened at the consulate through their earpieces. They quickly rushed towards the ambassador. Seeing this, Agnes and the other Musketeer also ran to the table. "Sir, there's been an incident at the consulate." One of them informed him, although the whole table heard it. Henrietta paled.

"What type of incident?" Fitzgerald stood up.

"A mage broke through the outer wall and into the building before being subdued."

"A mage?" Agnes gritted her teeth, thinking of her Musketeers she'd posted to the outside wall. They were brave, but she knew they couldn't take on a mage.

"A mage?" Henrietta whispered. It could only be a noble- one of hers or even a foreign. Neither was good news.

"Your Highness." Fitzgerald's voice was as curt as ever when he turned to speak to her. "I hope we'll have full support from Tristainian authorities in dealing with this matter?"

"Of course." The flustered princess stood up and turned to Agnes. "Gather as many troops as you can to that neighborhood. Get the Vallieres' if they are still here," She turned back to the ambassador, "M. Fitzgerald, you are all welcomed to stay here at the Palace if your quarters have been damaged."

"Thank you You Highness." Fitzgerald acknowledged diplomatically before he was swept away by his security team. The responses developed for this unusual new post stated that in the event of an attack, all personnel were to be secured in an Earth designed area. In this case, it meant the armored SUV he'd arrived in.

A large group of Musketeers arrived to escort Henrietta as she made her way through the castle, her mind racing. She'd already ordered Agnes to gather some troops and offered shelter to the dignitaries. What else? There had to be something else she could do to salvage this situation!

"Henrietta, what is happening?" It was her mother, accompanied by her ladies in waiting and handmaidens, looking alarmed at the bustle and at her daughter's unusually heavy guard.

"Gather the Regency Council, mother. There are important matters to discuss."

"What has happened?" the Archduchess asked as she ordered one of her servants to fetch the other members of the council.

"Someone has broken into the American-Canadian consulate," she reported, slightly frazzled, "We need to act immediately."

"By the Founder!"

"Please mother, we need to hurry to the council room. This is an urgent matter."

"Of course this whole business would bring trouble." Richemont rubbed a temple in frustration. A Musketeer burst into the room just then, almost stumbling on the doorstep and heaving, clearly out of breath. "Your Highness!" The woman panted, trying to catch her breath, "Urgent word from the consulate-"

"It's been attacked. The American ambassador already informed us." Henrietta told them. The woman bowed in humility.

"It was an inexcusable failure from us."

"How did they know so quickly?" Cardinal Mazarin asked. The man of the Church had not been as involved in greeting these newcomers.

"They are somehow capable of communicating across great distances instantly, without need for messengers. I've seen it myself." Delage informed.

"As have I." Richemont conceded with reluctance.

"So their leaders will soon know about this." The Archduchess understood. "Henrietta, how will they react?"

"They…" the princess hesitated, remembering what Canada and the US did to their enemies, "Will be angered."

"Not at us, I hope?" There was worry in her mother's tone.

* * *

A joint communications center had been set up not too far from the gate in Canada, so as soon as the news was replayed through the hardwire, it was being sent to each government. Trudeau was the first head of state to be informed. The timing was rather… inconvenient for the man, but he rushed to his post regardless.

The cabinet was already gathered in the Prime Minister's office. They initially seemed surprised at the his attire when they arrived.

"I take it that you weren't expecting our joint Consulate to be attacked," Minister Sajjan remarked, noting Trudeau's gym clothes and towel that hung from his shoulder.

"Yes, how did the situation evolve?"

"It's very hazy but a unidentified woman successfully breached the Consulate's walls 15 minutes ago," the foreign minister reported.

"Good grief! Is M. Ambroise ok?" Trudeau asked quickly, "Are any of our personnel injured?"

"Luckily," Sajjan answered, "Everyone has been secured and, except for one injured local, are fine. They've also captured the perpetrator."

"Has M. Trump reacted yet?" Minister Freeland asked, dreading what the short-tempered American president would do.

* * *

As always, the cameras were rolling as Marine One touched down on the South Lawn of the White House. It was a given a crowd was always there to watch the President's personal aircraft deliver him back home. Personable as always, Trump waved at the camera's as he crossed the South Lawn towards the White House. Many people, including news crews, got an unusual sight that day. An aide had run up to the American president and whispered something in his ear. The President began to shout and flailed his arms angrily… in full view of the cameras before stomping his way into the White House.

Needless to say, social media lit up at the event.

"And when did this happen?" Trump demanded as he angrily strode through the halls of the White House.

"The incident was reported fifteen minutes ago. Five minutes ago we got word it's been contained. No casualties, suspect in custody, unspecified damage to the building. They've prepared for an evacuation. We can have all our people and property back Earth-side by the end of the day if needed."

"We are not running away. Not in front of some backwards terrorists wannabees!" Trump said adamantly. "What is the Princess doing about this?!"

"We don't have any word about that yet."

"Of course not. They don't have good communications." The American President grunted impatiently. "We need to get a joint call going with Trudeau and the Canadians. Are our people on alert?"

"As much as they can be, but we just can't send them through. The portal is-"

"That's what the call is for."

* * *

An aide burst into the Prime Minister's office.

"M. Prime Minister! President Trump is calling us via video conference and he isn't too happy!"

"There he is." Trudeau sighed, knowing how the conversation would go. "Fine. Get the video feed and cameras on." The Prime Minister and his cabinet waited while it was done before the American President's angry face appeared on the big screen at the end of the table.

"You heard what happened to… why the hell are you in gym clothes M. Trudeau?!"

"I wasn't expecting an attack," the Canadian replied dryly, "It was more important to get here than change."

"Hmmph!"

The door suddenly opened, revealing the same out of breath aide with a small file.

"The daily update on Halkegenia, and some new information about the recent attack." He told the Prime Minister as he caught his breath and entered the room. He handed out copies of them to the gathered ministers.

"Let's hear it then!" Trump barked from the screen. Trudeau waved for the agitated Defense Minister to do so.

"The perpetrator has been identified as one…" Sajjin scrutinized the paper, "'Fouquet of the Crumbling Earth'. She used magic to turn both the stone wall surrounding the building and part of the building's wall itself to dust, allowing her to pass through."

A picture appeared on screen for both sides of a green haired woman with glasses wearing a hood and cloak.

"This was sent before the attack- a suspicious person who's been poking around the consulate the last few days. At least we have a name to show with it now." Minister Goodale explained. "This woman has been identified as a Reconquista agent. M. Hiraga and Lady Vallière have had run-ins with her twice. She infiltrated the Tristain Academy and tried to steal the M-72 LAW that fell into the headmaster's possession. She was also involved in a plot to kidnap Lady Vallière that was luckily foiled by M. Hiraga."

"So this woman is an agent of a foreign government we have no contact with. Great…" Trudeau groaned, "On top of that… she's magically powerful."

"Are those people idiotic?!" Trump barked, "Attacking a consulate before any talks were done!"

"That's not the worst. M. Hiraga and Lady Vallière both stated that she is able to… summon a giant golem to assist her in battle and that she did so twice."

Headaches suddenly got worse in both the Oval Office and Office of the Prime Minister.

"Tell me that bitch didn't use that against our boys," Trump asked, increased frustration in his voice. The sound of a fist hitting a desk resounded through the video call.

"The current reports stated that she didn't."

"Thank God!"

"Anyway." Sajjan continued. "The alarm was sent as soon as she got through the fence. All diplomatic personnel were secured before she got up to the building. She was engaged, wounded, and apprehended by security forces directly after entering. The American Ambassador is unaccounted for- he was at the Royal Palace at the time of the attack."

"Any casualties?"

"More fear than harm. Except for a sprained ankle, everyone's fine."

Both leaders sighed. It was more good news.

"Is there any indication of a follow up attack? A rescue party for their agent? Anything at all?"

"Nothing so far though we are still waiting for news from Tristainia."

"What about that Fucket?" Trump asked with Trudeau correcting him.

"Simple. We bring her back here and send her to CSIS's headquarters in Ottawa," Goodale answered unhesitantly, "The CIA liaisons will be called to join in the interrogation."

On the American side, the phone of Trump's desk rang. He picked it up. "Is that so? Good! Go to the Princess and put her on the line. We want to speak with her right now about this!" Trump put the phone down. "That was forwarded from Ambassador Fitzgerald before he was secured." He explained. "He says the Princess is aware of the attack and is sending forces to the neighborhood to help. They've promised full cooperation in dealing with this and have even offered shelter to our people."

"Excellent," Trudeau replied diplomatically.

"Mr. President, Prime Minister. This event has already happened and now we have two very important things to decide- together-" Freeland remarked pointedly at the screen. "How are we going to respond to this event, and what can we do to prevent a repeat?"

"How _do_ we avoid a repeat?" Trudeau asked. "How did she use her magic exactly?"

"The report says she turned the fence and the wall to dust. If our understanding of their magic is right, an Earth mage like herself can control anything that comes from the earth."

"Including stone and brick?" The Minister of Defense asked incredulously. "Any building material made from the earth? Do I even need to say how difficult countering something like that is?"

"The best we can do," Goodale suggested, "Is monitoring the surroundings for anymore suspicious lurkers. Perhaps reinforce the walls with transformed materials from Earth?"

"Something artificial? I doubt a mage would know composites are," Sajjan pointed out, "Perhaps reinforced concrete as well?"

"What about the response to the attack itself? First of all, does absolutely anyone outside of the American, Canadian, or Tristain governments know about this?"

"Lady Valliere and M. Saito were witnesses since they were at the consulate. The scientific parties will know eventually because they kept in touch with our world through the consulate. I imagine the public in that world will notice all the troop movements."

"But no one else on our side?"

"As far as we know, except everyone gathered here… no," Goodale reported as another familiar figure appeared on the screen next to Trump.

"Perfect timing." Trump praised his Secretary of Defense.

"Good day Jim!" Sajjan greeted, "I believe that you've been informed of everything that's happened today?"

"Yes," the gruff man answered, "Luckily things aren't going badly."

"No, not this time eh. The attacker is in custody and we'll be transporting her here as soon as possible. We were just about to discuss our response to her masters," Sajjan answered with Mattis nodding.

"We can have Marines reinforcing within 24 hours with the right clearances." Mattis nodded respectfully at his Canadian counterpart. "As far as retaliation goes, obviously our hands are tied. We have no fleets or air bases over there. What we can do now is bulk up and make it clear we will not be intimidated."

"Think we can send back elements of JTF2?" Trudeau asked Sajjin. The team deployed had been reduced when the MPs arrived. He got a confirmative nod.

"We can also deploy some of the regular and reserve assets from the 2nd Canadian Division but I doubt we'll need that much firepower right away. This supposedly powerful mage was taken out by plain gunfire. We don't need to be heavy handed in this."

"Jim?" Trump asked.

"Marine FAST Teams will be our quickest bet and we can have follow up forces afterwards."

"We'll need permission from the Princess for this." The two were reminded by Minister Freeland, "I doubt that Tristain would appreciate us sending heavier forces."

"We can all agree on something at least," Trudeau remarked with everyone looking at him, "We are not running away from these… thugs."

"Absolutely!" Trump declared, banging his fist on his desk and Mattis nodded. Trump's phone rang again. "Hello? Alright, let's get her patched in so everyone can hear her."

* * *

"Eum Greetings? Can you hear me, M. Trump, Mr Trudeau?" She spoke unsurely into the object the American Ambassador had placed on the table in front of her. He'd told her just to speak, and not only would they hear her, but she could hear their responses from it.

"Preposterous that such a mere box can do such things," Richemont whispered to Delage who agreed, "I doubt that they will stay in Tristain."

"Loud and clear your Highness!" Trump responded loudly startling everyone in the council room, "Is everyone fine over there?"

"We are well M. Trump. The Royal Palace has not been attacked," she said, hiding her surprise.

"I'm very happy to hear such good news," Trudeau said warmly, "Are you alone with Ambassador Fitzgerald?"

Henrietta shook her head.

"I am currently with my Regency Council."

Her Justice Minister was glaring at her.

"Greetings then. I wish to introduce myself. I am Prime Minister Justin Trudeau of Canada. I'm currently with some of my Ministers."

"How are we to introduce ourselves to them?," Cardinal Mazarin asked Ambassador Fitzgerald, "Must we take turns to speak before this… cellphone?"

"No, you merely need to speak your Eminence," he explained, "With your usual tone of voice."

"Greetings Prime Minister Trudeau. I am Cardinal Émile-Richard de Mazarin of Tristania. It is an honour to finally speak to you."

"The pleasure is mutual your Eminence," Trudeau said before Trump cleared his throat.

"Good day to you Cardinal Mazarin, I'm President Donald J. Trump of the United States of America."

His rather inelegant introduction contrasted greatly with the Canadian Prime Minister's. There was a swift series of introductions of the other Regency Council members and present Canadian Ministers. Trump grinned as he introduced the SecDef.

"I'd like to introduce you to Secretary of Defense James 'Mad Dog' Mattis. To make it clearer, this man is the great warrior that leads the armies of the United States of America in defense of the American nation and its people!" he boasted, "He wishes to speak to you."

The epitaph was certainly not reassuring to the Tristainians.

"Your Highness. Gentlemen." A different, gruffer voice said.

"Hello, M. Mattis." Henrietta was the only one brave enough to return the greeting.

"Greeting your Highness, I've been looking forward to discuss with you and your people," Mattis said quite politely, "It is quite a shame that we must speak under such unpleasant circumstances but it will have to make do."

"Yes," Henrietta replied, not expecting such a polite tone from the man, "It is a great shame for us that this was allowed to happen." Even if the Princess hadn't spoken to her directly, Agnes bowed her head in shame.

"I have to ask if there's anything you are doing over there to ensure our people's safety?" he asked calmly.

"My personal guard Agnes issued orders for troops to go guard the neighborhood your consulate is located in. The most powerful mage in our Kingdom, Lady Karin de la Vallière of The Heavy Wind, is leading them right now along with her husband, Lord Centurion de la Vallière of the Earthly Bulwark. No magic user will be able to pass them."

"That reassures me," Trudeau added in, "Are any other measures being taken?"

"The Royal Palace is open to your people and their guards." The Princess reaffirmed, and suddenly the call got noisier.

"Your Highness! You can't let more foreign soldiers in that easily!" Richemont shouted, "They could assassinate us and take over the kingdom!"

"Please listen to Minister Richemont," Delage added insistently, "This is too much."

"Again, you are being far too trusting my dear daughter," her mother said.

The sound of someone clearing their throat caught the bickering council by surprise.

"Excuse me but we can hear you… very clearly," Trump said, irritated by all the loud yelling, "Don't worry about anything. We're not interested in overthrowing anyone cooperative."

His words seemed to have stunned the council into temporary silence.

"I understand that you are… unfamiliar with our diplomatic customs," Minister Freeland politely cut in, trying to defuse the tense situation, "But signed declarations are golden in our world. The Ottawa Declaration of Goodwill is clear in its intent and we have no intentions of renouncing it."

"Thank you for your reassurances, Minister Freeland," Henrietta said, placating her detractors and throwing a slightly smug look at her Regency council, "So what will you do next?"

"We were discussing that before you came in, your Highness," Prime Minister Trudeau answered, "Be assured we have no intentions of abandoning you or Tristain. We intend to face these Reconquista brutes."

Henrietta sighed in relief. Her worst fear had been averted.

"We have already decided that Fouquet is to be brought to Earth for imprisonment," Freeland said, "Since her attack was against our consulate."

"I remember the agreement," Henrietta said, "That the consulate is to be considered sovereign territory of Canada and the United States."

"Your Highness! That is preposterous!" Richemont exclaimed angrily, "She commited her crime in our country!"

"I sold the land, as was my right as the crown, to the Americans and Canadians. That makes it their land on which their laws apply." Henrietta stated calmly. She'd actually gifted it, but they'd promised compensation and that sounded better at the moment..

Richemont seemed beside himself. He stared incredulously and wide eyed at the other members of the council, as if begging them to speak against the madness they were hearing. At last, First Minister Delage spoke up quietly.

"While it indeed was your right, Princess, this is really something you should have shared with us. Why didn't you?" A gloved palm slammed down on the table, making everyone on the call jump.

"Because," she stated fiercy, "It is my duty to help Tristain and its people and this is the way to do it! Had I demanded your approval, any efforts would have been stopped! You would have stalled any effort to befriend the Americans and Canadians! Everything I do, I do for our Kingdom, and I will not be held up by your foolish concerns anymore!"

* * *

Back in Canada, the Prime Minister and his cabinet were wondering approvingly if perhaps Trump's mannerisms had rubbed off on the girl in their short time interacting or if something she'd seen or heard on Earth had stoked a fire in her heart. Several hundred miles south, the American President was nodding and smirking approvingly as he listened to the young woman- no, ruler- laying into her simpering subordinates.

* * *

Silence followed her words for a few shocked moments before the Archduchess decided to speak up hesitantly. "My daughter may have a point- do we really want to face the burden of having to imprison a mage and driving off any Reconquista rescue attempts?"

"And this won't worsen our standing with Cromwell?" Richemont demanded angrily. "They will find out about this sooner or later, and they will be angry!"

"They already have their sights set on us. I don't think this will change that." Henrietta responded calmly.

"You've seen the way these people react to magic!" Richemont blustered. "How could they possibly hope to imprison a mage of her caliber?! She should be in our custody."

"We've held far more dangerous people." Trump spoke up. "A disarmed mage will be easy."

"Besides, see it like this," Minister Goodale said, "She will be held, without her wand, in a completely different world that she doesn't know much about. Her hair is… unnatural in our world and she would stand out in any crowd if she tried to escape."

"There are also other advantages to her detainment being on Earth." Sajjin added. "Once she's in our world, she is not coming back. _Ever_ ," No one noticed Richemont pale slightly. "She'll never be a threat to you again, either as a spy or an enemy combatant."

"We have agreed to hold her in Canada. Should she escape, the weather will take care of her," Mattis remarked. This is was an obvious bluff. March was when winter was slowly ending but the nights were unbearably cold and the days weren't that warm either.

"What...will happen to her?" Delage asked nervously. Civil as these people were, the tales they had from that boy were still… unpleasant to remember.

"Detained and interrogated by our intelligence services for any useful information about Albion," Mattis answered firmly, "And after that, she'll face trial for her crimes."

"A trial for a spy?!" Mazarin exclaimed, "But what is the purpose? She is obviously guilty."

"It is the way our laws are written. A person if guaranteed a fair trial before a judge or a jury if they so choose" Trudeau explained.

"Obviously, the charges against her are rock solid anyways." Trump casually added. "But it'll show Albion how _civilized_ nations act."

The emphasis on 'civilized' was not missed by anyone on the call.

"Albion…" Henrietta mused. "M. Trump, M. Trudeau, what exactly will your response be to Albion?"

"We'll make it clear we strongly condemn their actions when the opportunity presents itself," Freeland answered, "We'll give them a chance to explain themselves if they want to and issues any grievances, but we will not let them think they can do this again."

Everyone had a feeling that Albion wouldn't do anything to help diffuse the situation..

"As for an immediate response." Trump cut in. "We're deploying more of our men to guard our people and our consulate. We are also going to reinforce its defenses."

"That's it?"

Richemont actually seemed a little relieved.

"For now." Mattis answered gravely. "Any further aggression will be met with a greater response."

"I see M. Mattis," Henrietta said before her mother spoke up.

"Excuse me but what will condemning their actions do? What are the implications?"

"Quite simple your Majesty," Freeland replied in her usual diplomatic tone, "We acknowledge that they have deliberately ruined any chance of diplomatic talks and that we refuse any dialogue until they prove to be trustworthy. It will also help justify any sanctions or interventions against them."

"Very well, I must admit that such a measure is unusual Minister Freeland," the Archduchess said, "But you have proven to be quite understanding and cooperative."

"Reconquista will absolutely dread it." Richemont sighed, the realization finally dawning on him this was all happening whether the regency council approved or not. How could these otherworlders have changed the Princess so drastically? What had she seen?

"As Foreign Minister, I'd like to know if there are any sanctions against Albion since Cromwell overthrew the Tudors?"

Delage nodded.

"Yes Minister Freeland, all of the Blessed Realms and Germania have officially cut ties with them. There are no legitimate trade ships going to its ports. No one is buying their windstones or any other merchandise. We are also doing our best efforts to quell any smuggling effort."

"Sorry to cut in." Trump interjected. "We're going to set up in a room with more of my people to deal with this. M. Mattis'll remain here to talk with you." To the Canadians, the screen cut off. To the Tristainians, they just stopped hearing him.

"In other words, there's an embargo on Albion, am I correct?" Freeland asked.

"Yes."

"Do you know if this Fouquet was staying in Tristain or if she left Albion prior to her mission?" Goodale cut it. This was a matter that concerned CSIS who was under Public Safety.

"Well Lou- Lady Vallière and M. Saito last faced her in Albion," Henrietta explained, "So it is safe to say that she has returned to Tristain."

"Despite the embargo?" Goodale noted.

"So it would appear." Henrietta admitted in embarrassment.

"I see. Who is the noble in charge of border security? Under whose jurisdiction does it fall?" Mattis asked. Richemont gulped nervously, not liking the direction this conversation was taking.

"That would be under the Justice Minister."

"M. Richemont, I believe you said it was?" Trudeau asked.

"Yes." He spoke up. "I am." He was actually glad for this infernal device now; at least these people weren't in the room staring intently at him like all the others.

"I see," Goodale said, "Is there a chance that Reconquista might have infiltrated your border authorities? Or bribed them?"

"W-well, I-" The Justice Minister had a brief reprieve when the American President re-joined the call. On the Canadian side, they could see over the video feed he was now joined by his Secretary of State

"Welcome back M. Trump," Trudeau said, "Hello Secretary Pompeo. I hope you are doing well."

The man nodded quickly

"The CIA Director and the Director of National Intelligence will be here soon." Trump explained. "Your Highness, this is Secretary Pompeo, one of my people."

"Good afternoon Your Highness, M. Trudeau." He greeted the gathered ministers and nobles.

"What did we miss, Jim?" Trump wanted to jump right back into the conversation.

"We were about to discuss on how Fouquet was able to return to Tristain," the SecDef informed, "And it seems that it might be due to lax border security."

"Is that so? And who's in charge of that?" Trump said ominously much to the discomfort of the Tristainians listening to him.

"Oh lord, here he goes." One of Trudeau's Ministers whispered so that the microphone didn't hear them, "Richemont's not gonna like this."

"Gonna regret waking up this morning eh?"

"Justice Minister Richemont," Mattis explained to his president before shifting his attention, "Now, you were saying Minister Richemont?"

"My border security isn't infiltrated by Reconquista and I assure you that my men are trustworthy!" the flustered minister defended angrily as he banged his fist on the table, "There are other ways to enter Tristain! Perhaps she hired a smuggler to get her in! Reconquista probably released a number of them in exchange of their services after they seized power!"

"Well something is clearly wrong if that woman got back into your country minister!" Trump remarked angrily.

"I assure you that I am using the utmost effort to stop them!" Richemont snapped back

"Is smuggling an issue in your country, Princess Henrietta?" Trudeau asked kindly, breaking up the back and forth.

"Pirates and smugglers have always been an issue for all nations." She explained. "Tristain, Gallia, and Germania all share the same sea and skies and it is an easy way to avoid tariffs and border searches. Even pirate airships have long prowled the skies around Albion."

"I see," Trudeau said, gears turning in his head.

"Don't you have a Coast Guard of some kind?" Trump asked.

"Coast...Guard?" Henrietta was sure she knew what the term meant, but she'd never heard it before.

"Excuse us, You Highness. We need need to discuss something." Trump said. "Just wait and we'll be right back.

"Oh, very well…" Henrietta seemed surprised.

* * *

"It'll be bad for business and security if these people can't look after themselves." Trump shook his head once it was just the Americans and Canadians. "We can forgive an accident or two because they're backwards, but there's a limit before it's not worth the trouble."

"He's right." Sajjin conceded.

"Is there something you want to suggest?" Trudeau asked his counterpart. The POTUS looked like he was just waiting to be asked.

"We speed things up. These people still use wooden ships, don't they? We expedite things, set it up so we can sell them wood soon. Or better yet we trade them wood for better deals or offer it as payment. You buy some from your own people and give it to them, they get what they need and you keep your money in your economy."

"Just because we give them new wood doesn't mean they're going to turn out an efficient Navy or Coast Guard."

"So we help them train one!" Trump said immediately. "Give it to the Princess so we know it's someone we can trust."

"That would be a very severe escalation of things." . "These people may be behind us in technology, but this still is global politics." Helping train other nation's militaries wasn't new, but it was exactly the kind of thing that got you into proxy wars or risked having the military personnel training them killed during peacetime, which never looked good at home.

"Our consulate being attacked was an escalation." Mattis spoke up. "At the end of the day, humans are humans."

"We're going to have to invest a little more into this world if we want to get anything out of it." Trump insisted.

"And let's not forget that these people are our neighbors now. If anything happens to them, we have to face a threat directly." Hearing one of his Cabinet agreeing with the American POTUS was a surprise to be sure. But they were right- pretty much the entire point of these efforts was to make sure Canada had stable neighbors and that North America at large was safe.

"Either way, we'll need a few weeks to put a plan like that together." Trudeau summarized, wondering if the environmentalist crowd would try and crucify him just for selling lumber. And that wasn't counting other factors, like if Tristain had the money or manpower to even run a Coast Guard or increase its Navy.

"Can we at least agree we need to teach these people how to take care of themselves?" Trump asked impatiently. He looked up from the screen at something in the room on his end. "Good, you're here. Take a seat." Two new people joined the President and SecState on the screen- the Director of National Intelligence and the Director of the CIA.

"That would help things. Anyone have any suggestions on what we can do right now that isn't drastic?" Trudeau looked around for suggestions.

"We send people to help them root out corruption." Trump stated. "We're good at that. Or we should be." Fortunately, he didn't go into a rant on US politics. "This is about religion, and that can turn citizens into traitors. We know this. The same thing should be happening over there. We send over some smart people to help. Good people with good equipment, not like that girl and that kid she had running around with her. We help them clean up and we can get more done safely."

"As long as the Princess is adamant about punishing corrupt officials." Mattis warned. The Afghan and Iraqi governments and security forces had been a nightmare to work with because they wouldn't deal with their own corrupt people. It didn't matter what evidence got thrown in front of them about drug smuggling or other crimes.

"You heard her earlier Jim, she's got leadership in her."

"We'll need to ask the Princess before we scale up our intelligence operations. We can't have them investigating their people and still hiding as members of our diplomatic detail."

"Then let's get her back in on the call and ask her right now."

* * *

"Are you still there, Your Highness?" It was Trudeau's voice. It had been over ten minutes.

"Yes, we are." She nodded.

"Princess, I have two more people with me." Trump spoke up. "They are the people whose resources get my country all the information it needs to stay safe and ahead of its enemies, and to help us catch traitors in our midst. There is no one better than them in our world." He paused for a moment to let that sink in. "We want to offer some of those resources to your country, to help you."

He cleared his throat.

"I'd like to introduce you to the Director of the Central Intelligence Agency, Gina Haspel, and the Director of National Intelligence, Daniel Coats."

"We are pleased to meet you, Madam Haspel and M. Coats," Henrietta said, remembering her meeting with George Devers, "I presume that M. Trump has asked if you are able to help us?"

"Indeed," Haspel answered, "We can spare great effort in helping you seeing as how Reconquista is a threat to all of our nations."

"I thank you."

"What would this assistance consist of?" Delage asked skeptically.

"Very simple, our agents will assist you in rooting out traitors and work with yours to do," Coats explained, "They are supremely skilled to say the least."

"Are they the ones that found Osama Bin Laden?" Henrietta asked, remembering that particular tale from her first trip on Earth.

"The same ones!" Trump said, "Would have been faster had I been president."

"Then I will agree to your aid. Will Canada assist us in these endeavours?"

"Naturally," Minister Goodale answered, "The United States and Canada have long collaborated on security matters."

"You- you can not possibly agree to this your Highness!" Richemont protested. "Are we supposed to just take their word over our own people?!" He stood up, his temper getting the better of him. "For two months, these people have been here and no matter how much we talk, nothing has been accomplished! And- and now they're sending their soldiers into our kingdom to 'help us' by taking over our duties?! This is madness! We are being turned into a vassal!"

"Have they said anything about taking over our duties?" Mazarin remarked, "They have only proposed collaboration between our security forces and theirs. If anything, this shows that they are willing to work with us and pave the way for an alliance if I understand their customs correctly."

"You are not mistaken your Eminence," Minister Freeland replied, "Your wisdom is impeccable."

"Thank you but I owe it to my services to the Founder and Church," he explained, "I fear that Reconquista's teachings are dangerous to our world's order and will bring needless bloodshed to our lands." The Cardinal often wondered if any of the nobles in their land had already abandoned their loyalty to Tristain for the rebellious teachings. It was impossible to be sure.

"I must reluctantly agree to this," Delage finally said, clearly displeased at the prospect, "I do not like the idea of foreign agents working in Tristain. But I do have faith that these agents will not be tainted by Reconquista."

"What about you your Majesty?" Trudeau asked politely.

"I believe that First Minister Delage has expressed an opinion similar to mine," the Archduchess answered, "I hope that my daughter's faith in you is not misplaced."

"Have no fear your Majesty," Coats answered, "You will find that her Highness is smart in where she puts her trust."

Richemont looked aghast. Not only had the Princess defied him, now the rest of the council had turned against him.

"Mark my words! We are committing a grave mistake today!" he shouted accusingly, "Even Germania did not use such pernicious means to turn us into a vassal!"

"Do you have any other solution Minister Richemont?" Henrietta asked sharpely, irritated by the man.

"I believe that we do not need such assistance! Our border guards and agents are good enough!" he argued only to be interrupted by Trump.

"If they were so good, how did that spy get in so easily!? That incident proves that you're not doing enough!" The Justice Minister turned a shade of purple. The Canadians held back a collective groan of irritation.

"Please, M. Trump, Minister Richemont, we are trying to work out a solution today," Trudeau calmly mediated, "One that will benefit both of us."

"If such is the desire of this council," Richemont relented, defeat obvious in his tone.

"Thank you Minister."

The Archduchess cleared her throat.

"Excuse me but who is this Osama Bin Laden?" she asked, intrigued by the story, "You've mentioned him Henrietta."

"Yes mother. I heard of his terrible crimes."

"One of the worst piece of human garbage to have walked on Earth," Trump explained angrily, "That coward ordered his men to attack my country and killed thousands of innocents in one day."

"It was one of the worst days of our time," Trudeau continued, "Many of my countrymen died as well."

The archduchess dreaded asking how the attack went. The Canadian Prime Minister sensed the unease but pressed on.

"The attackers hijacked four of our world's... airships with their passengers in them before crashing three of them into important buildings. The passengers in the fourth gave their lives by fighting back and crashing it in a field rather than a building."

"If I remember correctly, 3000 people died right?" Henrietta asked with compassion.

"Yes, your Highness." Trump answered angrily, "It happened in my home city and I was there when the towers collapsed. Two of the greatest buildings in my country turned to dust and rumble in an instant with thousands trapped underneath."

Henrietta gasped softly at his version of tale.

"Did you catch him?" Richemont spoke, a mix of morbid fascination and nervousness in his voice. He had to hand it to them. Catching Fouquet that easily was something many nobles only dreamt of.

"Oh yes," Trump snarled almost sinisterly, "We found that rat's hiding hole after 10 long years so we sent in our best men to kill that dirty bastard in his sleep before throwing his corpse in the ocean where it belongs."

Richemont blanched. The lack of hesitation or remorse was unnerving to say the least. It reminded of the rumours he had heard about the Romalian Inquisition. Even then…

"M. Devers told me the same story," Henrietta remembered.

"If anything, we are lucky if your Central Intelligence Agency and CSIS are willing to collaborate with us," Cardinal Mazarin said uncertainly, "If they are that skilled."

"Our success will not depend only our skill but on yours as well," Trudeau stated diplomatically, "If you are able to be honest with us, we should be able to overcome any issue."

"Indeed, Prime Minister Trudeau," Delage said.

"I have one last topic of discussion for us that you may agree." Trudeau suggested, "From what I understand, Tristain's navy is under equipped and outdated. Am I correct?"

"Yes, we have difficulty in securing enough funding to supply our shipyards with lumber and other materials." She explained, ignoring the unsure glances her council gave her.

"We may have a solution to that." Trudeau told her. "It will take some time on our end before we can present it-"

"Knowing these people it'll take half a year." Richemont muttered darkly.

"-but we may be be able to help you get those materials. The United States and us have a history of helping nations we consider friends improve their security." The use of 'friend' instead of 'ally' didn't go unnoticed. Then again, as the Regency council was starting to realize, a friend in their world seemed to get as much if not more help as an ally in Halkegenia.

"Not to mention that Canada is famed for its excellent lumber," Trudeau added, trying to hide his snarkiness from Trump, "It will have to be reviewed by my Parliament but it should be feasible to at least sell you lumber with a discount."

"I must admit that this is an interesting arrangement," Delage replied, "I hope that your Parliament will allow it."

"Don't worry, it should be possible," Trudeau said happily, "My… faction controls our Parliament."

Not to be outdone, Trump cleared his throat.

"Perhaps the United States can offer something as well," he glanced over at Mattis, "Do you think we can send of our boys to teach them some tricks? We have a long history with pirates and smugglers ourselves, Your Highness." He explained.

"I believe it could be possible," the SecDef replied, "It'll take a couple of weeks to arrange it."

"We are very grateful." Henrietta told him.

"I'm sure all three of our governments have matters they need to discuss between themselves." Trump pointed out.

"That is true." The Canadians shared the same sentiment. "Before we break the call, is there absolutely any other matter any side wishes to bring up?" There were none.

"We can talk again when everything's been immediately dealt with." Trump declared. "Trudeau, Your Highness, good day."

* * *

"I told you how easy these people were to talk to." Trump said to his subordinates. They nodded in agreement.

"What do we do next M. President?" Coats asked, "Do we tell the media what happened?"

"According to my aides," Mattis added, "Some reporters saw you react to something earlier today at around the time we got news of the attack."

Trump groaned. Of course the vultures had to be there at the worst moment.

"I say we let them talk," the president said tiredly, massaging his temples.

"Unfortunately, that wouldn't be possible," Haspel noted, "After all, any supply convoy to Tristain will have no choice but to go through Montreal which is the second largest city in Canada."

"Any large movement will be noticed by the locals then," Mattis concluded, "That means we can forget any secrecy."

"Might I suggest we recontact the Canadians later today for a joint declaration on what happened?" Pompeo suggested, "It will make sure that everyone gets the same thing out and limit any misinterpretations."

There was a collective nod of agreement at the Secretary of State's suggestion. Rest would be appreciated.

"I can see the wisdom in waiting as well," the SecDef said, "We'll be able to get more information from the situation in Tristania."

"Very well, I sure could use a break after all of this," Trump finally said getting up.

"Anyone notice M. Trudeau's get up?" Pompeo as they exited the room.

"I guess he got his priorities right for once," Trump remarked dryly.

* * *

"Looks like we'll have to tell Parliament and the public," Trudeau stated, "This is getting far too big to keep secret."

"The troop and supply movements will be obvious to say the least," Sajjan remarked, "Do you think Montreal's infrastructure would able to sustain such things? CFB Montreal is ready but what about the area around it?"

Goodale shook his head.

"Considering how some of the key overpasses are currently being rebuilt and how most of the streets around are covered in orange cones," he reported grimly, "That will be difficult to manage but feasible."

"Wonderful," Trudeau sighed irritated, "We'll have to recontact the Americans this afternoon as well as Mayor Plante and Prime Minister Couillard. We need Montreal's roads to be functional at 100%."

"We'll also have to get Ministers Champagne and Bibeau to help as well," Freeland stated, "Since we're getting involved directly with Tristain's development and stepping up trade efforts."

"Get them on the phone," Trudeau ordered as he got up, "We'll also need to speak with Minister Garneau concerning the bridges and railroads around Montreal if we are to ship in large amounts of supplies."

He was making his way out when Goodale asked him a quick question.

"Justin?"

"Gonna need a change of clothes."

* * *

The American Ambassador had left to contact his people. It'd be a while before they all arrived at the palace. That gave the Regency Council time to discuss.

"These people are still strange, your Highness." Delage stated. "But seeing them dealing with a threat and not talking business, I can understand your hopes."

"Thank you First Minister," Henrietta said gracefully, "They are indeed different in culture but

"I hope we do not regret this," Richemont stated, displeasure obvious in his voice, "This seems to be to good to be true."

"I must admit that I was quite… impressed with your conduit," her mother said, "You have changed much since your return from Earth."

"Mother?"

"You handled this incident quite well," Minister Delage stated, "Despite how sudden it was."

Richemont glared at them in disgust.

"Have you lost any touch with reality?! Her Highness has been nothing but rash!" he ranted angrily, "And it seems that her rashness has spread to you! You are all being foolish! They are deceiving us with false promises! All of their ambassadors have only been stalling ever since they arrived."

"Minister Richemont," Mazarin spoke up quietly, "This talk has yielded us gains."

"Gains? Merely trivial promises! Of all the people seated here, how can you have faith in men who have not been blessed by Brimir?!"

"Justice Minister." The archduchess spoke up. "Perhaps I should remind you that by daughter is the rightful successor to the king."

"She is right." Mazarin nodded. "And despite being not blessed by the Holy Founder, they seem to be wise people in their world."

* * *

"This is not another Benghazi! Our brave servicemen have proven to be more than a match to the Reconquista terrorist! We are not running away in front of such cowardice!" Trump declared firmly in front of the cameras at the White House conference room, "We, as Americans, have a duty to stand up against aggressors anywhere!" The cameras flashed and questions were yelled.

But moan and criticize as the pundits did later that night, America was going forward with things.

* * *

"It is unfortunate that Reconquista's leaders have chosen violence as a course of action without even holding a dialogue with us," Trudeau expressed, standing behind a podium at Parliament, "In doing so, they have proven their barbarity to us. It is therefore our responsibility as a free nation to assist Tristain and her people so they may prosper."

Needless to say, Trudeau didn't get any unmanageable resistance from Parliament as his Liberals held the majority of the seats.

* * *

In the wake of the attack against the Consulate, public opinion in Canada and the United States were divided. On traditional and social media, debates raged furiously about whether or not their nations should pull out from Tristain over the hostile action.

There were still many people who were very optimistic about this new world, too optimistic to let a little setback (to them, anyway) destroy it. Others thought the two nations should focus on themselves instead of tying themselves up in a new world. And some people were just expressing that classical human fear of the unknown.

Whatever the public's position, things would go on. For now, at least.

* * *

Louise hated humility, and humility was what using these crutches was. They were borrowed from the Americans and Canadians- something to help her get around with her ankle the way it was. She hoped that she could get to a Water Mage quickly and get out of these.

"Are you sure you don't want me to help?" Saito offered again.

"I'm _fine_." Louise huffed, out of breath as the two made they walked in the consulate's hallways, escorted by the security forces. They'd stayed in that room for what seemed like ages and only now were they being let out. They'd been told the Princess was letting the Americans and Canadians stay at the palace. They were getting sent along too, and Louise dreaded having to see the Princess like this.

They got an interesting sight just as they left though- the soldiers carrying the unconscious body of a very familiar green-haired person on a pallet. "That's her!" Louise gasped.

"Fouquet…" Saito looked shocked to see her here. Then he started laughing, embarrassing loud enough to draw attention.

"What is with you?" Louise whispered angrily.

"She got completely owned!" Saito laughed, and Louise had no idea what he was talking about. Probably some strange expression from his world.

"Completely owned?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, "What does that mean exactly?"

"Oh, it means that she got euh," Saito was struggling to find his words, "Totally defeated without being able to fight back."

"Is she…?" Louise asked, slightly uncomfortable.

"No," another voice cut in. It was Anders who looked slightly winded while Stanford stood next to him, "She's been incapacitated and will be taken into custody on Earth."

"So that means she won't be able to escape and cause more trouble for us?" Saito asked, smiling. It was the best news he had heard today.

"Exactly," Anders said, "Our bosses'll also enjoy talking to her."

A familiar roar caught Louise's attention and caused her to groan.

"I'd know that anywhere," she muttered to Saito who looked at her with a puzzled expression, "That's Mother's manticore."

Saito blanched slightly. Their last meeting with Louise's parents hadn't gone well. Mainly being caught sleeping in the same bed after they thought that the Duke and Duchess had left with their armies. The only reason they were probably still alive was they couldn't spare time to stay any longer and scold them.

"What's she doing here?" He asked, he looked at the front door. "Whoa…"

"What?" Louise went to stand beside him and were surprised too. There were troops- Tristainian troops- in the street. Pikemen, cavalry, and more. And clad in armor and walking through the consulate gate was their leaders: Louise's parents on their familiars. The duchess was on Camille, her manticore while the duke was on his Pegasus, Charles.

Predictably, Louise's first instinct was to hurry back inside as she could and pull Saito back with her to avoid being seen. Unfortunately for them, Ambassador Ambroise exited the Embassy with his guards and made his way to her parents.

"Greeting Duke, Duchess," he greeted reverently, bowing his head.

"Greeting Ambassador," the duke said, "I am grateful that you are unharmed."

"Thank you milord."

"Are any of your men injured?" the duchess inquired, "I can supply a Water mage to assist."

"Ah thank you Duchess Vallière. None of my men are injured but your youngest daughter has injured her ankle."

"Take me to her. Immediately." the duchess demanded bluntly.

"I saw her near the exit." Ambroise replied as he guided the two nobles, "I can accompany you inside."

"How was she injured?" the Duke asked angrily, "Was it because your security failed?!"

Ambroise shook his head.

"While we were being led to a safe room, your daughter unfortunately tripped over her dress," he explained calmly.

"I hope it didn't cause too much trouble," the duke continued.

"Not at all," the ambassador answered warmly, "M. Hiraga was able to carry her to safety."

"Is that so?"

Louise could only do her best to suppress a groan as she saw her parents enter the consulate. She couldn't exactly hide.

"Hello Mother, Father," she said weakly.

"Louise! How do you keep getting in such predicaments!" her father scolded, "First in that bed with that boy. Now this?"

"Why were you with M. Ambroise? I hope you and your familiar were not wasting his time on a whimsy!" her mother added before turning to one of her guards, "Please summon D'Hauterive and tell him my daughter has injured her ankle."

The man bowed and left.

"I'll be fine mother," Louise insisted weakly while the ambassador led them to a room to sit.

"The fact you are in crutches means that you are injured!" her father said, "You still haven't answered why you were here rather than at the Academy."

"We were summoned by Ambassador Ambroise," she answered, slightly more confident, "He had matters to discuss with us."

"Yeah! It was about that spy Fouquet!" Saito said, surprised at his sudden burst of confidence, "They wanted us to tell them about our encounters with her!"

"And what did you have to tell about her?" the duke asked in a bored tone, "Beyond the fact that she is a known Reconquista agent."

"That I've faced her twice and defeated her twice," the teenager boasted proudly, catching the noble's attention.

"Do tell me more young man," he asked, intrigued, "Especially how a commoner could defeat that thief."

"We-"

"Actually!" Louise interrupted. "We can't. It's Her Highness' order." She shrunk under the glare of both her parents.

"Perhaps we should consult her Highness on this," the Duchess suggested with her husband agreeing.

"At a later date. Right now, we've been entrusted with an important mission."

"We have." The Duchess acknowledged. She turned sternly to her daughter. "As soon as your ankle is healed, you will return to the Academy." Louise had hoped to visit her friend before they left the Capital, but she realized it was probably a bad time.

"Excuse me, Lord Vallière?" Ambroise cut in politely, "But I've received word that your daughter and her familiar are to come with us to the Palace. Her Highness has demanded their presence as well as yours."

"I see," the duchess said as the man bid them good day and left to oversee other tasks.

"I think we can ask her Highness if we can talk to you about our secret missions," Saito commented before shrinking at Louise's glare.

"Very well, you may accompany us," the duchess relented, "Though you are not going anywhere until D'Hauterive arrives."

"But since you are here boy," the duke remarked sternly, "Would you know how your leaders would react? Is there any danger for Tristain?"

"Euh... oh… well, they'll be angry at who's responsible for this."

"So Reconquista then?" Louise asked hopefully. She had feared that Tristain would be held responsible for this while her parents listened carefully. The familiar was still a commoner… but he was a commoner from the other world. So he ought to have some understanding of their leaders.

"Yeah, they tend to know who to blame for problems," Saito explained, "I saw it on the news whenever something bad would happen to them."

"I see," the duke said just as a robed mage arrived, dressed in blue robes, "Greetings D'Hauterive!" he greeted, "My youngest daughter has gotten herself injured again."

"I see," the man said, running quick diagnostic spells on Louise, "Sprained ankle, nothing too difficult to heal."

A wave and incantation quickly patched up the young noble.

"Milady, you must be more careful," the man quietly scolded, "Someday, I might not be there to fix you up."

Louise grumbled something before getting back up.

"Can we go to the Palace now?" she pouted, not wanting to dawdle any longer when she could be of use to her liege.

* * *

Fouquet had lost track of time. She had no idea what these people had done to her, but she felt like she'd slept for an eternity. She could hardly remember how they'd caught her. She only had a faint recollection of being struck by an extreme force. After that it was only odd sensations: an occasional glimpse of light, distant voice, the feeling of movement. Nothing coherent. She wondered if this haze was death and if she'd be in it forever.

And suddenly all her senses returned to her. She was awake and laying on something soft. Her eyes opened and she found herself staring at a dull gray ceiling. The sharp pain in her left leg and arm was gone, replaced by a dull one. Taking a quick glimpse, the former spy noticed her clothes had been changed to an orange set and that she had bandages where her wounds were.

"Where am I?" she muttered as she looked around her unfamiliar surroundings. Four grey walls and a single door with a small window. A sink and a toilet in a corner. She was lying on a metal bed with a simple mattress.

Instinctively, she reached for her wand but realized it was gone and, with it, her means of escape. The door opened, revealing two men, dressed simply. One dark haired, one dark blond.

"Good day to you," the dark haired man greeted with a smile, "I must admit that your little stunt at our consulate in Tristania was quite impressive."

"Who are you!? Where am I!? Release me this instant!" Fouquet demanded angrily.

"Well, that was quite impolite Mrs. Fouquet. You could have at least thanked us for removing those bullets," the blond remarked in an irritatingly polite tone, "But since you insist on knowing, you are on Earth."

That completely stopped the former Reconquista thief's outrage. She was on Earth? The other world?!

"I strongly recommend you don't attempt to escape. The nights are quite cold here right now and our customs are… quite different from yours," the dark haired man said, still in that overly friendly tone, "But if you cooperate, we might be able to show some leniency."

Fouquet scoffed. "I have nothing to say to you people. I will not stay locked up here for long."

"If you say so," the blond replied, "But I'll have you know that your wand has been confiscated and sent to another facility for safekeeping."

That froze the former thief's blood. As long as she could get to her wand, Fouquet could escape… but now, that was impossible.

"Perhaps we should return later? You up for a drink and a snack?" the dark haired man said to his companion as they exited the room.

"Have a nice evening, Ms. Fouquet!"

The door closed and Fouquet began to scan the room for any means of escape. Much to her chagrin, the walls were well maintained and the window far too small for her to squeeze through. Looking out the window, she could see a snow covered city and a setting sun. She approached the door and peered out the window. She saw only a similar door across from her, but only a long barren hallway beyond that.

She didn't panic yet. Her first instinct was to wait. This wasn't the first time she'd been captured after all. Time dragged on, and no one returned to check on her. She caught a glimpse of something outside her door every so often, and was fortunate enough to catch it once- a guard doing rounds.

Finally sleep claimed the former thief.

Fouquet awoke when the first rays of sunlight filtered through the window. Nothing had changed in her predicament. After a few moments, the door opened, revealing the same two infuriating men from the last day. Carrying food and beverages in their hands. Were they going to gloat over her?

"Good morning to you Ms. Fouquet," the dark haired man said pleasantly, "My colleague and I were having breakfast together when we decided to visit you and bring some food."

They placed the food in front of her.

"How awfully nice of you." Insincerity dripped from every word.

"I think she still doesn't like us." One remarked to the other.

"As if I would ever enjoy the company of a commoner," she sniffed disdainfully at the two men, ignoring the enticing odor of warm food.

"Must you use that word in a such a way?" the blond man said, "Our world doesn't adhere to such… rigidity."

"Strange that you speak of us as commoners," the dark haired one said, "You are but a thief afterall. A lowly criminal if I'm not mistaken."

Fouquet's teeth grinded at the insinuation.

"I am a mage and therefore a noble!"

"No. You're a prisoner." The man corrected with infuriating calmness. "And not in Halkeginia anymore."

"Not to mention," the blond one added, "Stuck here for the rest of your days. Which is a good thing because once we'll go through… Reconquista will be gone. _For good._ "

Her first thought was to call the man's words nonsense. But for a moment, she doubted. The Staff of Destruction, the guards at that building- these people were powerful.

"But we like deals you know?" the dark haired one said, "That's why we're getting involved in Tristain. Lots of opportunity for both sides to make money, learn new things, see what I mean?" Money? Was that the outworlders' only motivation? Her masters might enjoy that information, but telling them wasn't high on her priority list.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked suspiciously.

"Deals are not just monetary in nature," the same man answered, "But we can easily offer many other things to people who cooperate. Clemency, more comfort and so on."

The former thief knew where this was going.

"Do you really think that I would be so easily bought?!" Fouquet snapped, almost insulted.

"Calm down please, Ms. Fouquet," the blond man said soothingly, "You almost make us sound insulting. We were merely showing options."

The other man took a look at his watch.

"It's shame we can't talk more. Good day to you Ms. Fouquet," he said as his colleague stood up and left.

"Please enjoy the food too!" the other one said pleasantly, "Don't worry, it's not poisoned or anything!"

As the door closed, Fouquet tentatively sampled the food. Meanwhile, Harper and Devers were walking down the hallway, engrossed in conversation.

"She's gonna be a tough nut to crack," Devers remarked, "Though it'll be feasible."

Harper nodded.

"I think I saw some cracks in her," he said, "But we can't play around with her for long. The heads want something we can use fast."

"Indeed."

* * *

Cromwell was reading through the reports from Airlann. His forces there had been reinforced with additional men and a pair of frigates. His marshals and generals suggested that they lead a reprisal campaign against any local population center that resisted Reconquista's rule or was in league in with the rebels.

Something he authorized. He did not need rebels that defied his will; Brimir's will. It would take time before he could invade Tristain but he didn't fear anything. Cromwell knew that he had his Founder's Blessing. Afterall, how had he overthrown a Blessed House from their throne? Only divine will could have brought him such a triumph.

His agents and allies in Tristain had last reported that the Americans and Canadians were stalling any agreement. Multiple meetings had been held at their consulate but nothing concrete had resulted from them. The events still weren't at the front of his mind most days though.

A knock interrupted his musings and work.

"Enter."

The door opened, revealing Sheffield. She had a serious expression on her face.

"Lord-Protector! I bring ill news from Tristain," she said urgently, "There's has been a most disturbing message from one of our key allies."

"Speak Sheffield," Cromwell ordered, "What has happened?"

"Fouquet has been captured by the otherworlders!" she said.

Cromwell stood up in surprise.

"How has this happened?" he asked surprised, "How could they have bested a mage if they have no magic? Has this impacted their relations with Tristain?"

"I'm afraid that the reports send from our ally has had few details on how Fouquet was captured," She admitted. "But he claims these outworlders have taken Fouquet to their world, supposedly forever." Cromwell frowned at the loss of a skilled agent. "As for relations, this seems to have only driven them closer to Tristain. Supposedly, they will be offering them resources to improve their military and to root out any traitors."

"That is no good." Cromwell forgot the uprisings for a moment. "Tristain was supposed to get weaker, not flourish." He thought for a moment. "These people- they are worried about the portal, is that correct?"

"Tristain has convinced them they do not want to share a border with us." Sheffield reminded him. "Their coddling of the Princess seems to be only so that they have a friendly neighbor who won't cause trouble." Two powerful nations, fearful of the weakest nation in Halkeginia? Or just fearful of war in general?

"We have other matters to attend to than these other worlders." Cromwell stated. But if they were helping Tristain, something that had to be crushed early, it seemed unavoidable.

"Might I suggest something Lord-Protector?"

"Yes Sheffield?"

The woman made her way to a pile of papers and pulled a roll of parchements.

"Perhaps we can use this to our advantage. A few of our spies are not as… reliable or competent as they should be. They could make for a fine distraction for these outworlders while our more talented spies and allies act unimpeded."

Cromwell raised an eyebrow. "They caught one of our people and it only made things worse."

"They caught one of our people _attacking_ them." She corrected politely. "Why should they react the same if they aren't bothering them?"

"I see." He saw the logic in that. "Still, we need to curb their influence. Tristain can not get more powerful or gain any allies. Our sabotaging of Henrietta's wedding was costly enough for them. All we need is to get rid of these newcomers and our plans will fall into place."

"Yes, Lord-Protector. I'll factor in those instructions. We can impair and distract them at once. I will contact our allies on the continent then," Sheffield replied.

* * *

It had been only a few days since Fouquet's capture at the Joint Consulate. Things had quieted down after the first two days. More of Ambroise's 'golems' had returned along with more guards for Fitzgerald; a Marine Corps FAST Team. They had arrived very swiftly on their horseless wagons, much to the surprise of the Tristainians.

Once arrived, things had quieted down. The newcomers took to patrolling the building alongside Agnes' Musketeers as well as some of the Vallières' men and securing the breech with guards constantly around it. A Marine sniper team took up constant positions in the attic, their eyes on the lookout for any local that was a little too curious for their own good.

This morning, however, rumbling could be heard as a convoy of vehicles made its way through Tristania to the Consulate. Carrying men and construction supplies which began to unload from their transports. Under the watchful eyes of Henrietta and her Regency council as well as Admiral Jean-Arthur Lucien De Châteauneuf, the commander-in-chief of Tristain's Navy. They were accompanied by the ambassadors.

"As promised," Ambroise said, pointing to one of the military trucks, "A sample of the wood for your ships."

"Thank you Ambassador Ambroise," Henrietta said warmly, "I'm sure Admiral de Châteauneuf will be quite ecstatic to see these samples."

The greying, old man nodded in agreement.

"Yes, indeed," he said monotonically, "I can tell with a glance that this is good wood. I will make a more detailed inspection after you have signed the Naval Agreement."

After the first day, both America and Canada had hurried to make arrangements on their end to send aid. The Ambassadors from both countries had sat down only yesterday to explain their offers of aid a little more clearly:

They would supply Tristain with materials for ships and naval experts to help train the Royal Tristainian Navy up to the same standards as the Royal Canadian Navy and US Navy, or as much as they could with the technology gap. But there was a lot more to an effective Navy than just the weapons. In return, Tristain would accept the aid as not only payment for the manor, but for two plots of land here in the Capital on which the full embassies would be built at a later date, and for one near the coast. That is where the training facility would be built; the first true foreign military base in Halkegenia. Well, in truth it would officially be a US Military base, but both forces would be using it.

It was a drastic step up from how things had been, but the attack had pressed America into reacting and Canada was willingly along for the ride.

"I look forward to signing the Three Nations Naval Agreement," Henrietta said, much to the discomfort of certain members of her council, notably Richemont who was worried about a coup. 'Friendly' military bases in your own country? What an absurd idea! He couldn't believe that the other world had such practices!

Certain nobles had expressed their displeasure as well while others were tentatively willing to such an initiative. It _would_ be a defensive position against Albion, surely? The Vallières, Gramonts and Grandprés had requested that they could have access to this facility.

But much like the Ottawa Agreement, it was largely symbolic currently. The lumber could be delivered, but it'd be months before the base was complete and the training contingent actually started working. Many of the same nobles who were reluctant of this new base also thought it was just more talk leading nowhere.

Unknown to the Tristainians, it would also be a joint CIA/CSIS base for spying on Albion, and be built to a standard that allowed helicopter traffic. For what purpose? Well, America and Canada were keeping their options open on both sides of the portal…

This was purely unknown to Henrietta, but the United Kingdom had also started talking with its old allies about this base and mission. It worried them that a man named Oliver Cromwell had usurped the throne of a kingdom so eerily similar to their own. No one was still sure if this was some alternate Europe or what, but similarities like that couldn't be brushed off. Plus, it was an easy way into the same economic and diplomatic deals America and Canada were getting.

Ambassador Fitzgerald was walking towards them with a man dressed in a green uniform.

"Your Highness, may I introduce you to Commander Andrew Sparrow of the US." The US Navy officer saluted the Princess before he presented himself as the man in charge of the American training team.

As Henrietta and her party entered the consulate, they failed to notice a lone man among the Tristain soldiers observing every one of their move. His true masters would have to hear as soon as they could from what he saw…

 **Author's endnote: The board is set and the pieces are moving... Just in case. Action's gonna pick up in the next chapters. Big time. For the Cromwell/Sheffield thing, manipulation isn't necessarily having someone groveling at your feet. It's also giving them impulses to act the way you want them too.**

 **Trivia and info: Montreal is infamous for its constant, chaotic mess that are its construction sites. Streets, overpasses, highways are always under repair.** _ **ALWAYS**_

 **Marie-Claude Bibeau is the Minister of International Development while François-Philippe Champagne is Minister of International Trade.**

 **Hope you guys enjoyed it and please leave a review as well.**


	10. Chapter 8: Just in Case

**Disclaimer: FoZ/ZnT belong to the departed Noboru Yamaguchi and whoever inherited the I.P.. Any real life organisation/person is merely being used in a fictional non-profit way.**

 **Author's note: Hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Biggest one yet that me and Trainalf pumped out.**

 **Just in Case**

Fouquet had lost track of time in her cell. It had been quite a while that she was stuck here. A dull routine had set in. The two men would show up every now and then. Each visit would have them bringing fine food and drinks, finer than what was usually pushed through the slot in her door daily, and news from Halkeginia.

The news wasn't pleasant for her to see. Usually, it was pictures (like that Tristain peacock of a noble had shown off) of other Reconquista spies, generally gruesomely killed or captured. Both mages and non-mages had fallen victim to her enemies' counter-espionage efforts.

Finally, a day came where the man was blunter than usual. "You know, our hospitality up to this point has been well-intentioned. You could have helped up and we could've helped you. But there's nothing more you can offer- we know everything there is to know about Albion and its spy ring has been dismantled. We have no reason to do anything but let you rot now."

It was the worst form of torture. To be caged in a cell without being able to escape. Even if it was a golden cage by the standards of Halkeginia.

Fouquet, once known as Mathilda de Saxe-Gotha, was stuck here, facing her own bad decisions. She realized there was no way to escape. She'd looked at every possibility, and there were none. And even if she could, what then? She'd never find her way home. Guilt overcame her but her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her cell opening. It was the usual pair of infuriatingly men.

"Greetings Ms. Fouquet," the dark haired one said warmly, carrying breakfast, "I hope you are doing well today."

"I am doing well," she answered. She'd started to think a lot in the past day or so. About what she had. About what she could do. About what she could say.

"Happy to hear that," the blond said, "Shame we can't say the same thing about Albion."

Her blood froze as she noticed no hint of deceit in his voice. Only cold hard truth. He produced more of those blasted pictures. To her horror, it wasn't dead spies… but Albion. A suffering Albion. Emaciated families, groups of people hanging from gallows and mass graves.

But it also indicated something else to her- these people had spies in Albion. And if they could get spies, they could get assassins and troops. That fool Cromwell's dreams and goals were doomed. Any reason she might have to hope for or aid in his success was pointless and gone.

"Really a shame what's happened in Albion, looked like a nice place to visit and do business," the same man sighed, "I hope you don't have relatives living there." She'd told them she didn't, but they still acted like she did, the bastards.

"Be a real shame if Cromwell decided to punish them for your failures," his companion added, "I hope-"

"Stop," she interrupted, barely blinking back tears.

"Excuse me?" the dark haired man was surprised at her sudden change in demeanour. He and his colleague had decided to give the woman one last shot at cracking her, just in case. And if they got nothing out of here, they'd move on to other captives. She'd go on trial and then spend the rest of her days here.

"I'll help you if you help me," she said unsurely, "You believe in good deals don't you?"

"Indeed we do." They hid their surprise behind years of professionalism. "But keep in mind that we already have gotten a lot of information from other spies. And we have our own ones in Albion now. We can only make a deal if you have something good to offer, and to be honest I don't think you do."

This put a damper on her hopes. Had she waited too long? Was there no chance left for her?

"I can become a double agent," she suggested, "In exchange… I want you to help me save my family's orphanage and Tiffania."

"An orphanage? And I assume Tiffania's a person?" the blond man asked, "That's a rather small demand Ms. Fouquet. Assuming it's true." He added.

"You must also understand that we can't also just trust you out of the blue like that after the stunt you pulled at the consulate," his colleague stated, "How do we know if you won't simply turn on us at the first opportunity?" She was silent.

"Who is Tiffania, exactly?" This is the first time they'd heard that name come up. "A daughter?"

"No." Their prisoner shook her head. "She's...half-elf."

"Half-elf?"

"My father served the Archduke of Albion and was one of his most loyal servants," the ex-thief explained, "Because of that, the Archduke entrusted him with one of his greatest secrets: he had an elven mistress."

"Elves and humans don't get along in your world, correct?" Harper asked, doubt evident in his voice.

"They do nothing but kill each other but somehow, the archduke fell in love with one. I do not much about their affair but one evening, my father met with his liege at our home."

"Go on?"

"I was not suppose to witness it but the archduke looked worried as he entered our home with a hooded child. My father seemed to understand what had happened as he led them into our living room. They spoke in hushed tones about a woman being killed and that the archduke's daughter was in great peril." she recounted sadly, "Father opened our home to her with no hesitation even when he saw her ears and raised her as if she was his blood as well."

"Was he not prejudiced against elves?"

"My father always cared deeply for children and could not stand to see one be harmed in anyway. Ever since that day, I believed that his hatred of elves was surpassed by his love of children. Perhaps it was out of loyalty to Archduke Francis." Fouquet continued, "He opened a secret orphanage on our former lands where his most loyal servants took great care of orphans. When Tiffania was old enough, we taught her how to take care of children. She does so in my absence."

Fouquet had to wonder how they were doing right at that moment. They were used to her disappearing for weeks and even months at a time, but it had been surely longer now.

Both agents looked at each other.

"So this Tiffania is important to you?" At last, they may have had leverage. Plus, this could be an opportunity to meet an elf. A breakthrough in their little shadow conflict and their cultural mission.

"I've seen her grow up. She's like a sister to me regardless of her blood."

"And yet you're an agent for a government that seeks to invade elven lands, is that right?" The agent made a jab that cut a little too deep. The green haired looked at the table in shame.

"I see," the dark haired man said, "But even if you told us that story, it's not enough for us to trust you as a double agent." Her heart fell.

"However, we can perhaps work something out in time," He told her noncommittally. "Deals take time in our world." Of course they did. These people had talked to the Tristainians for months without anything happening, and Fouquet had only just started wanting to talk.

"Since you are open to collaboration Ms. Fouquet," the blond man stated, "Is it really your real name?"

She shook her head.

"It was an alias that I used for my work. My name is in fact Mathilda of Saxe-Gotha."

One of the man scribbled down on a notepad. Something he would hand to the newcomers in Tristain as well… the British.

"Very well Miss Saxe-Gotha. What can you tell us about this orphanage and Tiffania?"

So Mathilda spilt everything about those. With as much detail as possible while both men carefully noted everything they could. Finally, she finished up and the two men left. They needed a map of Albion to situate the location of the orphanage.

"Think any of it was true? She's had months to come up with a story and rehearse it." Devers remarked.

"Beats me," Harper replied, " Our bosses'll want to know this though. We can figure something out as well."

Meanwhile, Mathilda looked at the door and prayed to Brimir that she had done the right thing.

* * *

"What do you think Louise?" Saito asked as he held a pen in his hands. Both of them were in her quarters at the Academy.

"You should read it again just to make sure it's good," his girlfriend said cutely as she sat up from the bed.

 _Hey everyone!_

 _Thanks for the last package! I couldn't wait to get the new mangas that came out this season!_

 _I don't know where to start from the last time I wrote you guys. There's so many things that's been happening here since I returned from Canada. Me and Louise have been doing well. I think her parents are liking me more and more ever since they talked to the Princess about our missions together. Louise says hi too!_

 _Don't worry, I'm keeping up with my studies too. M. Ambroise and M. Fitzgerald have set up a system so I can get my education through self-teaching courses. Sometimes, I even learn a few things from them and their staff when they have free time!_

 _There's more people coming to this world too. I don't feel so alone anymore. A lot of them come to talk to me. I'm really making a difference here though I can't talk much about it since it's top secret missions. Some of them are really fun to be around and others are… serious. Still, I got to attend meetings and banquets with Louise. I hope you liked the pictures of me in my new clothes that I bought!_

 _I hope that things settle down soon so that you can visit us soon! Thanks for understanding my choice._

 _Love Saito and Louise_

"I think it's perfect," Louise said before realizing she had forgotten something, "Can you ask them to send us the next volume of that manga I like?!"

"Toradora?"

"Yes!"

Saito took a glance at his new watch as he scribbled down a few extra lines.

"We gotta go! It's almost time for your class with M. Colbert!"

"Y-yes," she stammered, blushing, "Did you really think I'd forget something as important?"

Both quickly gathered their things before heading to Colbert's classroom. As they entered, they saw the other students in Louise's year such as Guiche, Tabitha, Kirche, Montmorency and Malicorne but there was also a pair of scientists from Earth, their clothing standing out as much as Saito when he first showed up.

The class went smoothly, with Colbert talking about the various application of Fire Magic, chiefly other than in warfare. To finish off his class, he revealed a small little machine and using his magic, he started a small fire that heated the machine to produce steam and move a piston. Most of the class wasn't impressed save for Kirche, Saito and surprisingly, the Earth scientists. Saito decided to go see the Fire Mage after class. Colbert was standing at his desk, discussing with the two scientists.

"This truly impressive Jean," one of them said warmly, "We certainly didn't expect to see steam engines here."

"Steam engines? It sounds as if they were common on Earth, Arthur," Colbert replied.

"They've fallen out of use to be honest," another one said honestly, "We've replaced them with more powerful systems."

"Really Benjamin?" the Fire Mage sounded almost disappointed but his fellow scholars shook their heads.

"Indeed but without the steam engine, much of our world wouldn't be the way it is," Arthur replied, "Keep up innovations like this though, and our worlds will end up very similar eventually."

Colbert beamed.

"Perhaps would you like to visit my workshop and discuss more about this 'steam engine?"

Saito cleared his throat, catching the three scholars' attention.

"Ah hello M. Hiraga, Lady Vallière," Benjamin greeted, "How are you doing?"

"You managed to understand that chemistry book I lent you," Arthur asked Saito quickly.

"We are both fine," Louise answered, "As for the book, it's more complex than we expected but it's very fascinating how chemistry works."

The studious mage had enthusiastically dug into the books that Saito had gotten from Earth, wanting to learn more about his world.

"Isn't this exciting?" another voice purred in.

"Oh hey Kirche, how are you doing?"

Louise was now glaring at the Germanian girl as Saito and Kirche exchanged greetings. At her side, stood the always silent Tabitha, book in hand.

"Jealous," the blunette muttered flatly.

Saito gently squeezed Louise's hand and gave her a quick, reassuring wink while Kirche introduced herself and Tabitha to the professors. Once that was done, the group headed to Colbert's workshop.

"Not bad Jean," Professor Richer commented as he looked around the workshop, "It reminds a bit of my lab on Earth. A few additions and you can actually have something comparable to mine in fact."

"Thank you Arthur. I would like to know if you can get some of the tools you have on Earth. They could be useful for my experiments," Colbert said, "Speaking of which, you can maybe help me with my latest one."

"Oh, what are you working on M. Colbert?" Saito asked curiously.

"I'm happy that you've asked Saito," Colbert said as he picked a beaker fill with a slightly golden liquid, "I'm working on reproducing dragon's blood."

"Dragon's blood?" Professor Leroy's curiosity, "Can I take a look at it?"

"Here, feel free to see it."

Leroy turned the container around, swirling the the liquid a few times.

"Where did you get it Jean?" Richer asked as he eyed the beaker, "The color reminds of something I've already seen before."

His colleague handed him the container while Colbert began to tell his tale.

"It was almost a century ago when two dragons riders appeared in the skies above Tristain during an eclipse. The two appeared through our skies in raiments that allowed them to fly before one returned through the eclipse. The other was damaged and was unable to fly. It landed somewhere in Tristain according to the tales I've heard."

"What did these two dragons riders and their raiments look like Professor Colbert?" Louise asked.

"They had long green bodies with white underbellies," he continued, "Their wings or tails didn't flap and they growled as they flew."

"Do you think you could draw them?" Leroy asked. He had a nagging feeling about this.

"Yes give me an instant."

Colbert summoned a parchment and a quill and began to draw.

"This is rather exciting isn't it Tabitha?" Kirche asked enthusiastically.

"Interesting." the blue-haired mage replied impassively.

"Finished!" Colbert exclaimed as he held up the sketch. The three Earthlings' jaws dropped at the same time.

"No way," Saito muttered, "Is that-"

"That's a plane alright," Leroy said in shock.

"Plane?" Colbert asked, "Like your world's airships?"

"Exactly," Richer said as he opened the beaker, "And if that's a plane then this isn't dragon's blood, it's kerosene."

He waved his hand over the beaker before sniffing the air over it.

"Yes, this is definitely kerosene. Still potent too," Richer noted, "Did you use magic to preserve it?"

The Fire mage nodded.

"The merchant had a preservation spell cast on it."

"Do you know where this plane landed?" Saito asked Colbert, excited at the prospect.

"The legends say that it has landed near the area of Tarbes."

"Tarbes?" Louise looked pensive for a moment, trying to remember where she had heard that, "Siesta is from Tarbes! Maybe she's heard of it!"

"Hmm, perhaps we can have an expedition instead of a class to recover this relic!" Kirche suggested, "It would be so exciting!"

"Ahem."

"Benjamin?" Colbert asked.

"Here's the thing though: If that is a plane, I doubt that it would be usable," he remarked, "Nearly a century means that the thing would have rusted away unless if someone used magic on it. Honestly, if it was built around that time, I personally don't think it's even safe to use."

"Why?"

"Planes were largely experimental in our world a century ago. They didn't work that well at the time and accidents happened a lot because their inventors and creators were still trying new ideas," Leroy explained, "Still, I'd like to find out what happened to that pilot."

"Would you return him home the same way as that soldier?" Colbert asked. Both Canadian professors nodded.

"An expedition could be arranged but I'll have to clear it with my superiors," Richer said, "It'll take a while though."

"We'll also have to get permission from the military as well," Leroy added, "Maybe get an escort just in case."

* * *

Saito's letter was only brushing the surface of what was happening though, for even he didn't know everything. There were a lot of new people coming into Tristain. A LOT of people, and not just diplomats and soldiers anymore.

The wall had come down on economic restrictions, and cross-world trade was starting to take off. Businessmen from Earth had been coming into Tristain frequently the last few weeks alongside an increasing amount of scholars. And they must've gotten something done, because now the roads around the Academy were filled with carts going _towards_ the portal rather than cars and trucks coming from it. A lot of merchants had set up little shops near the portal, eager to convince the authorities to let their product through. It was pretty much its own little trading outpost.

There was also a little bit of importing going on too, although the balance was highly skewed. Currency exchange was still an issue. The Tristainian nobles were getting American and Canadian paper money and willingly hoarding it in anticipation for the many wonderful things they thought they'd be able to buy. So far, many of them had spent that money importing some of the delicicies they'd tasted during the banquet, but there'd be more interests in the future. Even Henrietta had gained from lands under direct control of the crown. Not much of it had trickled down to the commoners as either Earth nation had hoped; there wasn't as much faith from the lower classes about this paper money or stuff they could use it for.

The economic boom didn't mean the number of diplomats and soldiers had gone down in Tristain. Actually, it'd increased. The Americans and Canadians had sent close to 200 military engineers over with vehicles to construct a base they'd agreed on with the Princess, as well as lay the groundwork for what would be the official two embassies. All three would be build exactly like on Earth. The electricity issue would be solved with a mix of solar panels and some heavy duty generators. It'd mean a constant need to transport fuel across the border, but they could make it work. Close to a decade of fighting terrorism in countries without infrastructure had really improved knowledge and methods.

All of them were combat engineers and, of course, armed. Many of the vehicles they were using had at least machine guns… some even carried heavier weapons like the MK-19 and even a handful had TOW launchers. The Americans- members from a US Navy Construction Battalion- had also brought two helicopters with them, detached from an active fleet: MH-60 'Seahawks' as they were often called, multi-role helicopters.

Officially, they were there for transport duty and could be seen most days flying pallets of supplies over Tristain to the coast. But they were also an armed variant of the aircraft, something the Tristainians hadn't been informed of, mounting an impressive collection of firepower each in the form of side mounted MGs and four Hellfire missiles underneath.

It was just a emergency card the Americans had decided to keep up their sleeve. They really were there to help construction, but in a pinch they could be used for anything from extracting vulnerable hostages or combating a sudden threat. They just wanted the means to keep their people safe. Just in case.

The Canadians had brought in their CH-146 Griffons, descendants of the venerable UH-1 Iroquois, affectionately known as the Huey. They served as utility helicopters, ferrying men and material to the various constructions sites. Though lightly armed compared to their American counterparts, their machine guns or miniguns still brought respectable firepower to the table. They were there for the same reason: just in case.

But it was not just American and Canada in Tristain anymore. The United Kingdom had finally sent over a formal diplomatic party to discuss trade and diplomacy with Princess Henrietta, although they were still far behind their allies in terms of progress. The truth was, the US and Canada had already tied into Tristain's existing economy; what was available for export was already being exported to those two countries. Unless the Tristainian economy expanded, the US and Canada more of less had a monopoly on otherworldly goods. And selling stuff meant going through Canada. It would be a while before any other Earth country got as involved.

Trudeau had held meetings with Philippe Couillard, the Prime Minister of Quebec, and his cabinet as well as Montréal's mayor, Valérie Plante. Obviously, Montréal had changed as a result of the increased traffic between both worlds. The city's urban planners and engineers were pulling their hair out of their heads trying to renovate the aging city's infrastructure while the provincial Ministry of Transport was trying to improve the leading roads into Montreal. At the same time, the Federal ministry of Transport was working overtime to renovate the key road and rail bridges in the region.

All of this to keep the new trade routes as oiled as possible… and just in case if trouble came knocking on the door.

* * *

"Tonight, we inaugurate a new era in fine wines!" an announcer declared as butlers entered a luxurious conference room at the Palais des Congrès in Montréal carrying bottles, "Wines from the vineyards of Tristain!"

After months of hard work, the Société des Alcools du Québec (Alcohol Corporation of Quebec) had been able to cut a deal that was profitable to them as well as the Tristainian nobles. Tonight was the result of such efforts. The fine wines were to be unveiled tonight as the corporation stockpiled enough of it to begin selling it as a high quality, artisan product in high class restaurants and select branches. Select people had already sampled them and found them to their taste.

Many chefs and sommeliers had waited impatiently for this evening, the expensive tickets having been sold out, simply to sample the new wines.

The sound of wine being poured into glasses filled the room and very soon, it was replaced by praise. The present chefs and sommeliers talked about how the wines would be used in their fine restaurants.

The following days, articles came out about the new wines in newspapers, cooking magazines and websites while being the talk of the day on various cooking shows whose hosts had been present. The wines began to arrive in the most high-end of the SAQ's branches with wealthy customers waiting for them. And money started flowing into Tristain.

* * *

The United Nations had also finally got involved, as Trudeau had predicted near the start of affairs. Because of that, a convoy of white and blue jeeps with the UN logo stamped on it arrived at the Royal Palace of Tristania.

Henrietta and her Regency Council were nervous in meeting the UN representatives because of what they had heard from the ambassadors and the American and Canadian leaders. They had heard both good and bad things about the United Nations, some of it contradictory.

"Good day your Highness, I am Jean-Charles Lejeune, Special Envoy of the Secretary General to Halkegenia," the white haired man said formally as he and his retinue bowed before Henrietta.

"Greetings M. Lejeune," Henrietta replied, "I welcome you to the Royal Palace of Tristania."

"Thank you your Highness."

The group was led to the Regency council where the UN representatives were introduced to Henrietta's council before explaining their presence.

"Our presence here, most esteemed member of the Regency council, is to evaluate if Canada and the United States are treating you fairly in dealings. The United Nations have been worried that they have been abusing of your trust and have sent me to make sure that it is not the case. Just in case that is true, they will face severe sanctions."

"Sanctions?" Henrietta asked, stunned.

"Yes, abusing another nation's trust and manipulating them to become a puppet is an extremely severe crime in our world." Lejeune explained.

"Well, you need not worry M. Lejeune," the princess said, "The Americans and Canadians have been a great help to us."

"Do tell me," he asked politely, "The United Nations wants to know."

"Very well, they have supplied us with considerable economic aid," she stated, "Many of their agricultural experts are working with our scholars to help increase crops for the next harvest. They've also made trade agreements with us."

Lejeune was scribbling down everything.

"Any military aid or presence?"

"Yes, they have agreed to sell us wood for ships at a bargain price."

This wasn't truly military aid in Lejeune's mind.

"And have agreed to establish a training camp on our lands."

Training camps weren't unusual either

"Excuse me, M. Lejeune?"

It was Richemont.

"Since you are here, I have a question that I have long wanted answered," the Justice Minister said.

"Go ahead Minister."

He nodded.

"Is it normal in your world for diplomatic deals to take so much time?" Richemont asked, "The Canadian and Americans have been discussing with us for months before anything came out of those talks."

Lejeune didn't seem to be surprised at all.

"It is quite normal that deals take time to negotiate. Even the United States and Canada have had treaties and agreements that took _years_ before they were signed." Lejeune explained, "It's because both sides need to agree on mutually beneficial terms."

Henrietta couldn't help but look smugly at Richemont who looked like he swallowed a very sour lemon.

"If anything, that proves their goodwill as they are looking to find mutual benefits."

"So what exactly is the mandate of the United Nations?" Delage asked.

"I am glad that you've asked First Minister," Lejeune answered, "The United Nations is an organization that englobes all of the nations of Earth. Our task is to promote international cooperation and maintain international order."

"But we are not on Earth," Archduchess Marianne asked, "So why are you present?"

"Since at least two nations on Earth have been dealing with you, we consider that it is necessary that we take a more active role in Halkeginia. We seek to extend the same guiding ideals on which the United Nations have been founded to your world in the goals of bringing peace and prosperity to both Earth and Halkeginia."

"This is truly a noble goal M. Lejeune," Mazarin stated, "And one I'm sure you'd find support for. Is there anything that you require from us to achieve this?"

"My team and I would like to start with a tour your lands," he stated, "In order to make sure that the United States and Canada are honoring their promises."

Arrangements would be made for that in the coming days, but the North American nations were moving faster than the UN observers.

* * *

The Tristain-Gallia border was always fairly busy with traffic at the main crossings. But it also had the problem of being highly corrupt on the Gallian side. The Mad King was not very good at reigning in his nobles. According to what Canada and the US understood, he was either uncaring or too plain insane to control his nobles.

It was at the crossing on this day that the party of Tristain nobles and troops gathered on one side was larger than usual, which in turn caused the number of the Gallian side to increase. The Tristainians were just here to protect their all but official allies. The US and Canada had decided to expand their diplomatic efforts in Halkeginia, a change brought on by the fact they were becoming far less inconspicuous in their presence and that there was only so much they could learn about this world in Tristain.

So it'd been decided they'd reach out to both bordering countries' leaderships. Without direct communications and because the countries of Halkegenia didn't believe in embassies and permanent diplomatic staffs, they had to do it indirectly. The plan was just about the same as it'd been at first contact- they'd send a their own people back with a message.

There weren't any plans to contact Romalia yet. There was no direct land route to take, and no one from Earth was confident enough to sail over the oceans. There was no way to guarantee safe passage yet.

A finely dressed Gallian noble arrived on his horse and dismounted.

"What is the meaning of this?" he asked his men imperiously, "Why have I been summoned?"

One of them bowed in respect.

"My lord, the Tristainians claim that they have met with new nations and that they wish to speak with his Majesty. These nations' envoys wish to speak to you."

The man grumbled in annoyance but curiosity had gotten the best of him. He had heard strange rumours from travelling merchants about these people without magic who allegedly came from the other side of a portal that had appeared in Tristain. What nonsense.

But there was too much consistency to ignore, and they all told the same thing: Tristain was changing. The nobles were making many deals with these people, giving them the fruits of their labor and land in exchange for exotic goods. He'd heard soldiers from this world were even there now! It sounded like the Kingdom had gotten new masters, and that was cause for worry. What could they possibly want with Gallia? He had to find out.

"His Majesty, King Joseph, has very little precious time to speak with upstarts!" he stated, "But I will meet them. Led me to them!"

"Yes my lord!" the man bowed as he led his lord to the border where black horseless carriages awaited alongside the Tristainians and men dressed in simple, black clothes. These were the envoys? It was almost insulting for the noble to speak with such plain people. The newcomers bowed respectfully before the Gallian lord.

"Greetings, we come from Canada and the United States of America," one of them said, "Our leaders have sent this message of goodwill to his Blessed Majesty, King Joseph de Gallia, in the hope our nations may one day build up an understanding and mutual cooperation with one another."

He handed the noble a pair of letters with elaborate seals. After a few moments, the noble looked angered… and tore up the letters.

"You only seek to vassalize us!" he shouted, pointing at both representatives, "Like you did to Tristain through false promises and lies! Guards!"

His guards lowered their weapons threateningly. The Tristainians border guards did the same in response.

"Gentlemen," one of the envoys said calmly but firmly, "Please calm down. If His Blessed Majesty's servants knows that he is not willing to speak with us then we shall not insist. We are open should he choose to discuss with us."

"Our king is no fool! Do not think we will forget this obvious attempt at our Kingdom's sovereignty!" The Gallian noble sneered.

"It is a shame that you believe such a thing," the envoy said politely, "But we will not bother you any longer." The American and Canadian left quickly to defuse the tensions, although the Tristain and Gallia troops would stare each other down for the rest of the day.

Both countries agreed mutually to hold off on diplomacy with Gallia.

* * *

Their attempt to open relations with Germania went much more smoothly.

It was another day in the Imperial court of Emperor Albert III at Vindabona. The tanned, blond-haired young man was overlooking a map of his Empire in his office. It was a game of making sure that the various realms and lords of Germania would be strong to be of use to him without them becoming strong enough to overthrown his family's control of the Imperial Throne. The usual game of a Emperor.

A knock on his door interrupted his musings.

"Enter!"

His chamberlain entered and bowed before him.

"Your Imperial Majesty! I bring news from the border of Tristain!"

"What is it Johan?" the young man asked with a commanding tone, "Are the Vallières and Von Zerbst quarrelling over the borders of their lands again?"

"No, your Imperial Majesty," Johan grovelled, "We have more news about that mysterious portal and the world beyond it." Like Gallia, merchants had also carried world to this land. Unlike Gallia though, there was a lot more intrigue.

"Tell me more then."

"The lands from beyond that portal have sent envoys that wish to speak with you, your Imperial Majesty," the chamberlain reported, "They have begun to cooperate and trade with Princess Henrietta and Tristain. They would like to extend the same courtesies to us, it seems. They are asking permission to enter our lands."

Albert III silently cursed the now-deceased Wales. If it wasn't for that infuriating prince's interference, he would be the one in control of that mysterious portal and he would be the one trade with them. But that opportunity seemed to have come back to them.

"They may come to Vindabona to talk with me then. This should be interesting." More trade was always good, but his true curiosity laid in the land these people came from and the people themselves; many of the whispers said his people and theirs weren't too far from similar.

There could be great things to gain here.

* * *

The familiar sound of truck engines resonated through the streets of Montreal. It was a common sight for the inhabitants by now as troops and materiel moved to the Jeanne Mance Park. It was either destined for the other world or for guarding the portal. Lieutenant Huynh could only groan in annoyance as he heard another familiar sound from his university days.

Student protesters.

He could also hear the sound of the riot police containing them. The sound of truncheons hitting shields as the police officers sought to intimidate and quell the protest. Taking a glance at the source of the sound, Huynh could see the riot police having formed up in a shield wall a few blocks from them with the protesters trying to advance through the wall.

"Go get a job you fucking losers!" Brisebois shouted next to him before Huynh nudged him.

"Don't bother, no one in their sane mind would hire a pink haired dress-wearing freak that doesn't what gender it is," Huynh commented, "Ignore those SJW shitheads. If they're not complaining about Tristain and us helping them, they'd be complaining that we're training to kill babies."

"Sir, I'm still impressed you went to that same university," Brisebois said while some of the other soldiers were yelling insults at the distant protesters.

"I'm still impressed I haven't punched one of them in my time," the lieutenant chuckled when a bang went off, "Fuckin' hell, looks like they pissed off the cops!"

"I wish we could give'em a hand… holy shit it's the cavalry!" Brisebois exclaimed as the Montreal police's cavalrymen rode past them.

' _Better the police then us,'_ Huynh mused while some wise guy hummed 'Winged Hussars'. He honestly didn't want to deal with protesters since he wasn't trained or equipped for this. Pointing a C7A2 in some SJW's face would be asking for trouble and all it took was a slippery trigger finger for shit to hit the fan.

The other reason was that some of his former friends were in that crowd. It was one thing to face an enemy combatant… it was another to face a friend protesting because of conflicting political views.

"Think the Americans have to deal with idiots like that?" another trooper asked, "Students causing shit like that?"

"Oh yeah!" Huynh exclaimed, "I'm sure a bunch of Antifa morons decided to burn a campus somewhere."

Ever since the attack on the Consulate and the subsequent deployment of Canadian and American troops, debates flared up about Imperialism. There was a fear amongst certain circles that Tristain was being taken advantage of in many countries.

That had led to protests that sometimes soured into violent riots. Like today as the sound of sound grenades and firecrackers clashing in the distance could prove.

But there were people on the other side too; you just had to look on the internet to find them. There were people who thought they should plow ahead with learning about this world. And a few, probably Americans, calling for a straight up war against Albion. 'Democracy for all' and stuff like that. They were nearly as bad as the lefties.

But man, was it a fun shit show watching both sides argue.

Heated debates had also taken place in the Canadian Parliament with Trudeau and the Liberals facing off against the opposition led by the newly minted leader of the Conservative Party, Andrew Scheer and his counterpart, Jagmeet Singh of the New-Democratic Party. Both men had gone on national media to denounce Trudeau's decisions around Tristain. Scheer viewed it as a waste of Canadian taxpayers' money that could have been better used to help Canada while Singh argued that they were meddling in another nation's internal affairs when they shouldn't. Other provinces were also complaining since it meant that federal funds were redirected to Quebec rather than them, the old rivalry between the Anglophones provinces and Francophone Quebec being stoked.

It was business as usual in Canadian politics.

For all of that, Trudeau wasn't concerned about the dealings in Parliament… but more about the latest report from the joint efforts of CSIS and the CIA that he was reading.

For the first two months, the reports had been about spies and both intelligence service's attempts to help Tristain improve theirs. Capturing the foreign spies hadn't actually been that hard, since they seemed to have just delivered themselves directly to the cooperating nations. They'd caught around 30 in all masquerading as merchants and commoners, easily half of them from having the poor judgement to snoop around their posts with written orders on their persons. It was clear they were still attempting to spy on US and Canadian interests. It was troubling to say the least, and probably played into how heavy handed their efforts were getting in the new world.

Nothing like the consulate attack had been repeated though. One had died beneath the wheels of an SUV trying to rob it like a carriage. Another had fallen into a trench and broke his neck trying to sneak into their new base during the night. Another had gotten caught on barbed wire and set off a flare before being captured. They were overt flops that gave both countries reasons to waggle their fingers at Albion, but not actually a cause for war, thankfully.

Reports of spies had all but disappeared from the bi-weekly dispatches. They were fairly certain they'd disabled a least one spy ring in Tristain but kept their eyes open, just in case. It was too easy so they presumed it was chaff that wasted time and efforts to cover for something bigger.

Corruption was also suspiciously absent, and the Princess had reported that the coffers were suddenly fuller than ever. And not a single person had been charged. Albion may not have been afraid of them, but some people certainly were.

So now the reports were focused solely on information about the wider world there. Mainly Albion and the other nations in Halkeginia. Getting eyes into Albion was difficult and limited. There were no communications to tap into, no satellites to spy with. Everything was being done the old fashioned way- by people. Second hand talk and rumors, plus what they could gleam from the Albion agents they'd already managed to assist in the arrest of. Field agents had snuck into the floating island nation and taken pictures of what was happening… and it didn't look good. The number of dead was actually pretty alarming- at least 40 000 dead already in Airlann, a region apparently unloyal to the new leadership...

And the other news the intel people brought back was… troubling. Massacres, filled prisons, kangaroo courts and executions were commonplace as Cromwell and Reconquista sought to consolidate their grasp on power. Even the Army and Navy weren't safe as their generals and admirals were scrutinized for treason, certain men using the whole situation to get rid of rivals. It all was uncannily similar to history's worst regimes, and the few that still remained in modern day!

The reports on the other nations wasn't as alarming.

Apparently Gallia was fearful of them, but there was no sign of a desire for war for now. Good thing too, because a war would destroy everything that had already been accomplished. No, the nobles of that Kingdom just seemed to like making disparaging comments about Tristain and them. Intentions for diplomacy were still very much there, they'd just decided to wait a little while.

Germania, on the other hand, were surprisingly open. An Imperial envoy had arrived at the consulate with news that Emperor Albert III was willing to discuss with them when he would have time. Trade was on the table, with the Germanians being reputed as fine metalworkers. Romalia was still a distant prospect but the agents were on the lookout for a means to open communications. Both countries were aware of the importance of religion in Halkegenia societies. With that in mind, good relations were a must if they were going to be permanently interacting with it.

Trudeau's office phone suddenly rang as he was still reading the reports.

"Yes?" he asked, "What's happening?"

"M. Prime Minister, we've just got news from our joint training base in Tristain."

The Prime Minister remembered that today was the day when Henrietta, her Regency Council and the Ambassadors were to visit the new facility. It wasn't complete yet, but nearly so. Some of the personnel from each country that would be stationed there had already arrived.

"It's under attack."

"What?!" The attack against the consulate four months ago was still a raw occurrence. Now they had another attack on one of their buildings?

"The report just came through. National Defense Headquarters and Minister Sajjan are monitoring the situation and we're already in touch with the Pentagon."

* * *

 _ **Earlier that day**_

The _'Defender'_ was flying through the skies, her crew on the lookout for any unknown ships flying through Tristain's air space. Everyone had warm clothing on since it was winter… though it was far milder than a Canadian winter! As it turned out, Halkeginia was a few months ahead of Earth in terms of seasons. The portal had appeared in late spring for them while it was mid-winter for Earth.

The frigate was part of the meager Tristainian Navy. On board, there was a joint American-Canadian team of observers, here to not only gauge what the Tristainians would benefit from learning now that the training facility was nearly done, but to document how aerial warfare was fought in this world.

Just in case.

"Unidentified vessel spotted!" one of the lookouts shouted, alerting everyone, "Bearing, 1-3-5!"

The captain of the vessel, Louis-Philippe Armand de Boeck, a young noble and Wind Mage, raised his telescope to the coordinates. This is was one of the new techniques that his Earth instructors had taught him in the two or so days they'd been here. Him and all the other young nobles on the crew.

"Is that ship a friendly?" a voice caught his attention.

"No, Lieutenant-Commander Reynolds," de Boeck answered seriously, "It is not flying any familiar ensigns and it's within our borders. I suspect it's a pirate or smuggler's ship. Every man to his post!"

The _Defender'_ s crew unfurled its sails, increasing her speed to match the escaping ship. Meanwhile, the captain used a spell on his voice to amplify it while the Canadian and Americans contacted the base via radio to warn them of the situation.

"This the _Defender_! You are currently trespassing over Tristainian lands! Stop immediately!" he demanded, "Or be prepared to be boarded!"

"She's got a lead on us!" the first mate reported, much to de Boeck's displeasure, "We can maintain the pursuit however."

"Curses!"

Lieutenant-Commander Reynolds looked over to his American counterpart, Lieutenant Caroll.

"I think I have an idea," the American suggested to Reynolds and de Boeck who pressed him to continue, "If the _Defender_ can get close enough, my marksmen can maybe disable her steering and sails."

"My crew and ship will do what is necessary to stop this ship!"

"Very well," Reynolds said, "Caroll, think your boys can bag'em?"

"Oh yeah," the American confidently nodded. The observation teams hadn't come unarmed- they'd come with sailors trained and verified for boarding operations. Over the last few months, Tristain had been worked into the US and Canada's normal anti-piracy efforts. Aside from the flying, mediocre quarters and worst food, and exotic views, it wasn't really that different from the African coast.

One of the sailors propped a rifle on the bow of the _Defender,_ an M-107. An anti-material rifle, it had a long serving history of disabling pirate and drug boats on Earth, and the Navy knew how to use it. The wind battered the crew, but they could adjust.

De Boeck was skeptical about the otherworldly musket, despite its massive size. A loud, almost cannon-like sound thundered from where the Earth sailor and musket was followed by cries of surprise.

"The ship's main mast has collapsed!" the First Mate shouted in disbelief. "It just came apart in the middle!"

"Impo-" the captain stopped his sentence as he saw the smuggler's ship lose speed and part of its main mast falling out of the skies. Another pair of shots rang out and he saw parts of the rudder explode in fragments. He gawked at the sight, then at the musketeer, and finally at the otherworldly officers.

"Not bad M. Caroll," Reynolds commented, "Captain de Boeck, I believe you should be able to catch up."

"Y-yes. Ready the boarding parties!" He ordered, shakily. The airship pulled in closer to the disabled ship as men prepared to lay planks and throw grappling hooks they could use to get across. Musket fire was exchanged as well, desperately trying to thin down the other side's ranks. A broadside from both ships thundered over Tristain, grapeshot and cannon balls tearing through the lower decks. The _Defender_ fared better, the new wood used to refurbish her hull stopping part of the broadside and splintering less. However, the screams of the wounded and dying proved that a few men still fell on both sides, but neither was about to put down their arms. The Earth sailors readied their rifles and machine guns, just in case, but stayed at the back of the ship.

The Americans and Canadians had strict guidelines for engagements. They could repel boarders, but they weren't allowed to board other ships. So they stayed and watched as the Tristainian crew boarded the rogue vessel. What they saw just on the deck was hideous. Clashing swords, men crying and screaming, a few from both sides even being knocked over the edge by Wind spells or pushed overboard and plunging down towards the land below. Muskets and pistols fired every now and then. Small explosions resonated as both sides used small bomblets to scatter the other while Water mages put any fire they could, blasted anyone unfortunate enough with water blasts and patched up anyone they could. It was a messy affair as some even slipped on the bloody decks.

"Jesus." The American officer muttered. You didn't see shit like that on Earth. RPGs and maybe little boats loaded with IEDs, but not this.

His Canadian counterpart nodded in agreement.

The battle eventually moved below deck. The sound of metal hitting metal only proved that no one dared to fire a weapon or a spell, fearing hitting flammable material, powder stores or the precious Windstones that kept the ship aflight. Finally, an older, bloodsoaked Tristainian sailor returned to the _Defender._ He saluted the captain with a dirty hand.

"Captain de Boeck, we've secured the smugglers' ship" he reported tiredly, wiping sweat off his brow.

"Excellent work!"

"We've already started to search the ship for anything valuable," he continued.

The captain nodded when Reynolds cleared his throat.

"Once the ship is secured, we would like to join in the search," the Canadian suggested.

"I will authorize your request." He agreed.

The Captain and observation party crossed one of the gang planks. Boots squelched in the mess that had become the deck of the ship. The observation party were doing their best to step around the muck when their host noticed something.

"Come over here!" De Boeck exclaimed as he pointed to a charred corpse lying to a badly burnt man groaning and twisting in agony.

"What is it?" The Canadian naval officer asked, surprised.

"I think it's the captain of the ship and that's either the First Mate or a 'ViP' as you would call them." He pointed to the suffering man. Then he knelt down and reached around the dead man's neck.

"Look at this necklace!" He hissed, pulling it and the man up. The charred head fell off.

"Captain De Boeck! That is unnecessary!" Carroll shouted angrily, "Looting is unacceptable!"

"This man isn't a pirate! He's worse then a pirate!" the noble shouted, "Only a spy would have such a necklace!"

"A spy?"

The captain drew his wand, pointed it a the necklace and began to chant a spell. The necklace began to glow green, much to the shock of the observers.

"A fireball like that would never have left a piece of jewelry intact except if it was enchanted." De Boeck explained, proud that he knew what the outworlders didn't. He let go and let the corpse fall to the deck.

"Do spies usually have enchanted jewelry?"

The captain nodded.

"Yes, they use them in various ways. Like recording messages and conversations or as a means of locating secrets left behind by other spies."

The Earth sailors were still skeptical, but then a Tristainian sailor came running out from below deck. "Captain! Captain!" He ran up, clutching an envelope with paper stuffed haphazardly into it. There was also a journal as well.

"Look what we've found!" He handed them all to his Captain, who started going through them before handing them to Reynolds whose jaw dropped as he began to read. He handed them to his companion.

"We need to radio this in."

* * *

A group of carriages was making its way to the new training base, carrying the Princess of Tristain, her Regency Council, Louise, Saito, and some of the Kingdom's top military officials. They had received an invitation to visit today since it was well underway. Henrietta looked out the windows and could see how things had come along. To her surprise, it was quite large and expansive.

What had been an empty stretch of coastal plain just 3 months ago was now bustling with activity. Trenches had been dug into the ground while bunkers and pillboxes had been set up around the perimeter. Barbed wired had also been strung around the perimeter. Old fashioned in terms of fortifications, but it would work here. Watchtowers had also been built and were permanently manned.

Behind all these measures to stop people was a collection of buildings, some built close to the water including structures where an airship could dock. Tall metal antennas and dishes had also sprung up on the more modern buildings. Despite all of this, there was still construction work as dozers and other heavily vehicles moved around. Henrietta was awed at the sheer scale of things; most noble manors would be dwarfed by this! Her musing was interrupted by one of the other occupants of her carriage.

"That's a helicopter!" Saito exclaimed happily, watching as the airborne vehicle in question came to land somewhere behind the other buildings. Henrietta, and many Tristainians for that matter, had seen them flying in the skies the last few weeks.

"Amazing," Louise said as the carriage came to a stop and the passengers began to disembark. As they did so, they recognized both Ambassadors Ambroise and Fitzgerald standing with their guards in front of the main entrance. A gate had been lowered while they all assembled.

"Good day to you all," Fitzgerald greeted, "And welcome to Joint Base Clément-sur-Mer."

"Thank you Ambassador Fitzgerald," Henrietta replied politely, "We look forward to visiting this base."

"I hope that the roads were not too difficult?" Ambroise asked as they were led through security, everyone being allowed to keep their wands, swords and pistols. Trust had been built up over the past months This area hadn't had any towns and so no roads existed. The Americans and Canadians had built their own, all the way to the existing paths.

"Not at all," she replied, "Your men have built excellent roads."

"I'll be sure to tell them," Ambroise replied as he noticed something, "Where is Minister Richemont?"

"He had an emergency," Henrietta explained, "His men have found a spy ring recently and he investigating whether or not Count Mott is their leader."

"Count Mott?" Ambroise asked, stunned. "The man who was first sent to Canada?" Henrietta nodded.

"It's probably nothing." She said. "Mott is a boastful man, but I believe he is loyal."

"It would be quite a shame if he were a traitor," Fitzgerald said politely. Word of this would have to go to their intelligence agencies to verify. They'd gone over Tristain's nobles with a fine toothed comb and found nothing. So far.

"What exactly does this 'Joint Base' have?" asked General Arnold-Henri du Poitier, commander in chief of Tristain's armies, as he glanced around the unfamiliar setting.

"Many of the necessities our armies uses in our world to fight," Ambroise explained, "And some that'll be of use to you. I believe that Colonel Roberts will be here soon to explain."

"Is Colonel Hamilton joining us?"

"I'm afraid not, although we may see him- he is in command of this base now."

"Really?" Admiral de Châteauneuf seemed surprised. "I thought it would be that fine officer we met at the treaty signing."

"He's here, but he'll be leading the training team. Our leadership just decided Colonel Hamilton would be more proficient at managing the base as a whole since he is from the Army."

"Hey no introductions for me partner?" A voice barked as the introductions and inquires finished.

"Did that sword just… talk?" Ambroise asked, slightly stunned as he saw Derflinger pop out of Saito's scabbard.

"Indeed I did!" Derflinger exclaimed, "Pleasure to meet you."

"Ah yes," Saito said, embarrassed, "This is Derflinger, my sword."

"Greetings M. Derflinger. I must admit that this is the first time I've spoken with a sword," Ambroise replied, surprised.

"That's ok. My pleasure to meet me you M. Ambroise! Partner and pinky told me about you and Earth."

"Right." Colonel Roberts seemed to get over the shock first. "Let's start the tour then."

The reality was this base had been built with more than naval training in mind, just in case. It had the facilities necessary for command and control of a large number of forces. It had a secret prison and offices for the intelligence agencies. Maybe a quarter of the barracks had been built for native troops- the rest were meant to house conventional ground forces from earth. There were plenty of places within the fence to store supplies and heavy vehicles.

Room had even been left to expand; there was still plenty of undeveloped land on the plot that could have more barracks built on it. Or even a small airstrip for aircraft. The MPs would still patrol the entire length of the plot of land as if it were part of the base itself. This wasn't so much a training center as it was a foreign base.

Just in case.

But the official story was it was a training center, so that's what they were told. It was a lie, but it was a lie in the benefit of both Earth and Tristain. They were led by Colonel Roberts who explained the basic functions of the different buildings, most of them being similar. Building styles might change but function did not. The man stood out as he spoke with the Tristainians military officials, his CADPAT combat uniform clashing against the more pompous garb of Tristain. The sound of vehicles and construction mixed with explanations for many of the equipment present until they arrived at a building near the center of the base.

"This is our command center," Roberts explained, "From here, we can coordinate all of the base's forces. Shall we enter?" He led them inside. "This place will be our greatest aid to your forces, Princess. From here, we can detect airships off your coast and around your borders. If we can set up the proper communications, your troops will be able to react faster than any other on the continent."

Men and women were either moving around with paper in their hands or sitting in front of screens or another devices, some having headsets on them. Only Saito, Louise, and Henrietta knew that though; the rest were at a loss as to what the boxes with moving pictures were.

"Whoa, do you have radar now?" Saito suddenly asked while Louise looked at him curiously. The teen was gawking around the large room. It was like the war movies he saw on Earth.

"That we do M. Hiraga," Roberts answered.

"What is 'radar'?" Du Poitier asked, "Is it a weapon of some kind?"

Roberts pondered for a moment.

"It is a weapon of information. It is what allows us to locate anyone flying or sailing into Tristain."

"How does it work?" Archduchess Marianne asked as she tried to make sense of the activity in the building.

"Quite simple really," another voice interrupted. It was Colonel Hamilton. He was hunched over over of one of his subordinates who was operating a radio, "Radar sends out invisible beams of energy that detect any solid object that's in range of it."

"Greetings Colonel Hamilton," Henrietta said warmly.

"Greetings your Highness, your Majesty. I'm quite happy that you've just arrived along with everyone since I've got important news for you."

"Oh?"

"The _Defender_ has reported that they've captured an Albionian smuggler ship. Our men on it just sent the information." he stated, "They've also found a spy heading into Tristain. They'll be bringing both here sometime in the next hour."

"I see." Henrietta nodded gravely. The rest of her entourage looked aghast too. "It is fortunate we are here to deal with it."

"But how did this news reach so quickly?" Du Poitier asked, stunned, "Were they near here?

"No, General, this is an example of their communications ability," Delage explained. "They can talk over great instances instantly, without need for messengers."

"Remarkable…" Anyone could see what use something like that could have to an army, "What about those… airships?" They had time before the ship would arrive. The Tristainians were still burning with curiosity.

"Helicopters you mean?" Roberts asked, "They're there for transport purposes mainly though they carry some weapons to defend themselves."

Du Poitier could understand the validity of armed transports. Pirates, mercenaries and privateers were an issue on the coastline, especially since the fall of Albion.

"Speaking of which," Hamilton asked, "Are pirate raids and smugglers a worsening issue?"

"Yes," the general nodded, "Ever since Cromwell took power, the Albion navy has ceased enforcing security and we have heard that he has released the smugglers and pirates that the Tudors imprisoned in exchange of their fealty. Ships from all the other Kingdoms have been getting preyed on with increasing frequency."

"We understand," Roberts sighed, "This situation happened a few times in our world as well."

"I see. How much do you want for this 'radar'?" Delage asked. This was suspiciously similar to their spy hunting efforts- they'd gather the information, then tell the Tristainians about it. And just like spy hunting, obviously they just wanted the means to get the information themselves instead of having such valuables in someone else's hands.

Concerns about the power these people held over them were not gone, not even close. If anything, it'd increased.

"That is not something anyone here can answer," Fitzgerald said politely, "Our governments are limited by treaties in our world that makes it difficult to sell weapons and military technology."

"Your world has… strict treaties," Mazarin noted, "Does it not make it difficult for diplomacy?"

Both ambassadors shook their heads.

"Not for long standing allies. Someday, maybe our countries will be there." Ambroise answered.

"This is a lot of aid you are giving us for free…"

"By our standards, it isn't actually that much. Most of our soldiers on Earth help other nations by providing them information and tools they can use to win their battles." Fitzgerald explained, "Or by providing relief efforts during crises."

From what he was saying, they summarized the US and Canada would do everything they could to help fight Albion short of actually using their own troops.

"Ahem, euh excuse me?" Saito piped up, "Colonel sir?"

"Yes M. Hiraga?"

"Do you think you could give them a helicopter ride?" the teen suggested, "It could be very informative for them." The colonel's face was expressionless- military bearing and a kid speaking out of turn.

Saito couldn't help himself. Truth be told, he always wanted a ride in a military helicopter.

"Perhaps we can show them," Roberts suggested, "If any are available." The instructions were to be reasonably open with the locals to keep them assured. And amazed, if possible.

"Very well," Hamilton relented, "I wish you all a good day since I have tasks to attend to. Give me an instant to see if one is available."

The American colonel summoned one of his staff members with a flight schedule before confirming that some helicopters were on standby. Roberts led the Tristainian party out of the command center and back into the bustling base. They couldn't help but noticing some of the troops' activities. Some were expected such as eating food while others ran around the grounds.

they could also hear gunshots in the distance.

"Can we also go see your gun range sir?" Saito asked enthusiastically.

"I'm afraid not since my men are currently using it for drills," Roberts answered seriously as he guided them to the helipads. The fact was, they were being told to keep their firearm technology as under wraps as much as possible. As they arrived, they saw two large airships. Now that they were closer, the Tristainians could scrutinize them properly. The American one was grey and slightly bigger than the Canadian's green one. Both had large doors on their sides and very utilitarian seats inside of them. They also had some of the outworlders' strange larger muskets installed on sides. The American one was resting on wheels while the Canadian one had skids.

"These are the MH-60 Seahawk and the CH-146 Griffon helicopters," Roberts explained, "Both of these superb machines have served us well in the last conflicts our nations have been involved in."

"Impressive," Du Poitier commented as he looked at these helicopters. They weren't as big as airships, certainly, but they seemed to move a lot faster.

"Indeed, would you like to sit inside ours, General?" Roberts suggested, "The invitation is also for her Majesty and her Highness."

"I suppose." The man admitted. "I must say, I didn't expect there to be seats here."

"Can I sit in the cockpit?" Saito asked quickly but the colonel shook his head.

"I'm afraid not." he answered seriously, "The pilots wouldn't appreciate it if you accidentally hit a button you shouldn't."

"Indeed, we wouldn't."

Everyone turned their attention to the source of the voice. The Tokyo teenager recognized the man's uniform as being the one of a pilot. The red Maple Leaf betrayed his origins. Another pilot stood next to him.

"Our girl here doesn't like strangers playing with her controls," the pilot continued, "But we won't mind letting you inside of her passenger compartment. Colonel, may we?"

The Colonel nodded.

Saito was disappointed he couldn't see the cockpit but could understand the man's reasoning. Everyone started taking turns getting inside the CH-146. When Saito touched the frame, his runes began to shine.

"What the?" one of the pilots asked as he saw the shining runes.

"Euh… Those runes shine whenever I touch a weapon meant for fighting," Saito explained nervously as he entered the helicopter, "They allow to master any weapons instantly."

The pilots looked at the colonel who kept a straight face.

"This is just like the movies!" the teen exclaimed as he got behind one of the door mounted miniguns, trying to defuse the situation. His runes were still shining.

"I think you should let your girl there try it out," the pilot quickly said, pointing to Louise.

"Oh ok." Saito reluctantly got off the mounted weapon and helped his girlfriend get into place.

"Go ask one of the intel guys to come down here." Roberts whispered to one of the MPs escorting him. After everyone took turns getting inside the helicopter, Roberts assembled them and was about to lead them elsewhere until an alarm blared out in the base, startling everyone.

"Attention. All personnel are to report to combat stations! This is not a drill! I say again, this is not a drill!" Louise was scared; it sounded just like the alarm at the embassy.

"Saito, what's happening?" She instinctively grabbed his arm.

"I dunno!" he said worriedly, eyes darting around, trying to understand what was happening.

The sound of boots thumping against the ground filled their ears while personnel rushed to their station. An MP ran up to Roberts.

"Sir, Radar's picked up an unidentified ship heading towards the base!" he reported, "Colonel Hamilton wants the VIP's to be taken to one of the bunkers!"

"They sure it's heading this way?" He asked, motioning for everyone to move.

"Making a beeline straight for us sir!"

"Are we under attack?" Archduchess Marianne exclaimed, her shock being shared by her party. They had drawn their wands and both Henrietta and her mother had pulled out their scepters as well. Saito, despite Derflinger's protests, didn't pull out the magical sword.

"We're not certain yet but we'll get you to a safe spot just in case!" Roberts said as he led them to a trio of newly arrived G-Wagon's. They were being loaded into the jeeps with Henrietta insisting on being the last one in before her guards. Her Regency Council and especially her mother was insistent in getting her inside though.

"Agnes and my Musketeers will assist you Colonel Roberts!" Henrietta suggested as she got inside but the colonel shook his head. At the same time, the helicopters were powering up.

"That's negative your Highness!" Roberts said, "We'll be able to handle them without risking your people!"

"But-"

Henrietta was cut off by the closing door.

"Your Highness," Saito piped out, after catching his breath, "They'll be able to handle them."

"How?" Louise snapped, "They have no mages!"

"So? I still took down that golem and Fouquet and I'm not a mage!"

"Y-you know what I mean!" she stammered, "They're not you and Derflinger!"

"But the-"

"Please calm down both of you," Henrietta ordered, earning a thanks from the driver, "Where are you taking us?"

"We got orders to get you to the command center. Safest place on base! You'll see how everything's going down as well!." the driver answered hurriedly as he drove swiftly through the chaos.

As the two carriages sped through the base, they could see other vehicles driving quickly by them or soldiers running to different places. Some were climbing ladders to the roofs of buildings and towers. Others ran in groups towards trenches, mortar pits and fortified positions. Every one of them had donned combat gear and carried their guns. Saito occasionally commented on how cool those weapons looked, much to Derflinger's displeasure.

"Come on partner, give me some credit!"

"Don't worry Derf! Guns are cool but there's none that can talk like you man!"

The driver and gunner shook their heads and couldn't help but wonder why did they do to get stuck in the same car as a pair of mouthy teenagers and a talking sword.

Finally the convoy came to a halt. As soon as the doors opened, the passengers were ushered inside by some soldiers, much to the protests of Agnes who insisted on fighting alongside them.

"Please Agnes, follow their orders." Henrietta demanded as they entered the building. They were lead to the same room where they had met Colonel Hamilton earlier.

"Ah your Majesty and your Highness," the man greeted, looking remarkably calm. "You are all okay?"

"Yes, thank you Colonel," the archduchess said, catching her breath, "What is happening?" In response, the man pointed up to a large screen. Part of the base's CCTV system was locked on a shape that had appeared above the ocean and was growing bigger as it came closer.

"It's coming from Albion," the Colonel explained, "and it has been maintaining its course towards us. It isn't flying any identification."

Admiral de Châteauneuf had a hand on his chin as he looked the screen.

"It would appear to be a frigate," he stated.

"What are her capabilities?" Roberts asked.

"30 guns and a complement of 400 men." the admiral explained, "Most will probably land when they'll reach us."

By now, the ship was over land and began to lower its altitude, crossing over a nearby forest.

"We've already asked them to stand down but they are uncooperative."

"Excuse me Colonel," General du Poitier asked pompously, "But may I take part in the battle alongside Chevalier de Milan?"

"Hopefully there won't be a battle. We'll try and warn it away. But if not, our forces will deal with it. You can just stay here, sir."

"That's an airship!"

"Yes and?" the colonel asked nonchalantly, "We can deal with an airship, General." He pointed to the screen. "Just watch."

* * *

The base, in total, had around 300 combat troops on it from both countries. Most of those were Combat Engineers, and the others were Military Police. All were well trained and there were more than a few veterans who had fought in Afghanistan and Iraq among their numbers. The engineers had manned the same fortifications they'd built in the past months and the MPs had taken position at all the entrance gates. The helicopters had already taken off, loaded for bear.

The pirates confidently landed, just a bit out of range for the base's weapons. Their ship had taken off, her cannons ready to bombard the outworlders fortress. They'd been told that this place had a great number of riches in it, riches they were eager to claim. They suddenly heard a strange chopping sound above and looked to the skies. They saw strange, podlike airships of which they had never seen before rise up from within the base and high into the air. Some circled well above them, demanding their surrender.

Fools.

Nevertheless, the raiders pressed on. A loud roar of wind caught their attention as they saw a massive plume of smoke streaking through the sky from one of the otherworldly airships towards their ship. Before the ship could react, the object had hit it head on.

The object exploded in a ball of fire before, so quickly some of the men with poorer eyesight didn't notice it, the ship itself exploded in one colossal fireball as gunpowder and other flammables went up in flames. Burning wood, cannons and screaming men fell from the skies as the ship shattered in midair. What powerful magic had wrought this?

Their surprise had been replaced by anger and a burning desire for revenge. And so, their leaders urged them forward, yelling. As they got closer however, they heard gunfire. How was it possible? They were still out of musket range right? The shots were few but their effects were devastating.

Leaders fell before they could cast any spell as their heads violently exploded suddenly in showers of gore with each shot. Suddenly, the shots began to multiply at an alarming rate. Streaks of lights flew towards them and cut down men with impunity while bombs whistled as they fell from the skies and detonated amongst them. As they got closer, the land between them and the base was open save for rolls of metal. Some tried to move them but cut their hands on the metal while others were cut down as they went through gaps. The enemy's weapon fire only grew more intense as they drew nearer.

More airships appeared, fire being unleashed from their sides that corralled the raiders towards the base.

* * *

For the Earth troops, it was little more than target practice once the order to engage had been given. The enemy was unable to return fire. Snipers in the watchtowers took down anyone that dared encourage the pirates forward while machine gunners and riflemen emptied belts and mags into the enemy. Mortarmen ran through their firing procedures, readjusting their fire every now and then, shifting to new coordinates called out by their comrades. Helicopter crews carefully flew circles above, providing support and avoiding aerial collisions.

Inside the command center, Colonel Hamilton watched everything with an almost bored look as the battle progressed; the officers on the field were handling it so well he needn't do anything. He had already contacted his superiors on Earth about the situation and sent a warning to the incoming Tristain airship. Months of response exercises and often attempted intrusions by spies as well as experience had made them as well oiled as possible.

The Tristainians couldn't make out many details beyond streaks flying towards the pirates and explosions, but they'd all seen the ship go up in flames with a single hit, and to say they were stunned was an understatement. All they saw was a carnage, an unholy play, not a battle.

"T-this is not war! This is butchery!" Du Poitier exclaimed as he watched horrified at the sight.

"General, in our world, we seek to destroy the enemy as swiftly and efficiently as possible, Hamilton replied nonchalantly, "That is how we fight our wars and design our weapons."

Henrietta and her Regency council kept their facade but were horrified at what they witnessed. Louise did her best to avoid tearing her face away from the screen, her pride not wanting to cower in front of the horror before her. She had already seen the Staff of Destruction but it was against a golem… not actual humans. For Saito, it was like watching a war movie… though it was far more brutal than Hollywood ever could manage.

* * *

After what seemed to be hours, the fighting stopped. In truth, it had barely been less than an hour, barely half an hour even, since the airship had first appeared. The American and Canadian troops had neutralized the last hostile combatant and secured the area. The first action Colonel Hamilton had in the entire affair was ordering containment in case the fire from the crashed airship became a problem.

The troops were cleaning up the battlefield and rounding up any unfortunate surviving prisoner. Some had dropped and played dead with the hope they wouldn't be targeted. A lot of them had died in mortar blasts, but a few hadn't and it was these stunned survivors that would be taken for interrogation. One or two were weren't dazed tried to flee on foot into the woods or anywhere else. None could escape the eyes in the sky or outrun the outworlder's carriages and were caught too. All in all, exactly 18 pirates survived the battle in various states of injury and were brought back into the base. More specifically, its prison.

Cardinal Mazarin had insisted on seeing the dead and dying to administer their final rites. A small comfort after the carnage they had endured. Henrietta and her mother had demanded that they assist in healing the injured prisoners. The colonel relented as he wanted to get these men patched up so they could be interrogated and it would allow his men to see how Water magic worked for healing. The intel personnel had been advised as soon as possible and were already in the medical center, noting how everything went down.

Saito and his runes had slipped beneath their radar for the moment.

The Tristainian military personnel had gone to the battlefield to witness the impact of Earth's weapons, Agnes having remembered her visit at the Canadian War Museum. It was one thing to hear it… it was another to witness it. The American and Canadian soldiers were didn't appear unfazed by the carnage, some even mocking the dead and captured, much to her shock.

"Think you could have gotten us that easy you dumbasses?" one of the Americans jeered at a brooding man being escorted away.

"Look at this guy! Fuckin' pussy was wearing silk man!" another exclaimed, prodding a dead pirate.

"You serious man? Fif!" a Canadian remarked, "Even my sister doesn't wear that shit!"

Some even laughed, much to Agnes's shock. She and the rest of the Tristainian military leaders held their tongues, not wanting to insult their allies. She would have to discuss of this with her Highness. It was utterly barbaric for her to witness.

They finally returned to the command center, escorted by their guards. As they arrived, Colonel Hamilton was putting down a handset.

"I've just notified my leaders of our victory," he reported to the gathered people, "They're relieved that everyone's safe."

"Yes...well...your soldiers certainly performed admirably." It was all they could say. After what they'd just witnessed, much of the Regency Council was still at a loss for words.

* * *

The _Defender_ returned triumphantly from its patrol, smuggler ship in tow. But it also arrived on alert; the Tristainian crew had learned about not only the attack, but the Princess' being at the base. So obviously they were trying to look good. But they arrived to a battle long over and a pirate airship turned into a smoking heap on the ground.

However, the prisoners they had taken would look extremely good. As well as the captured ship. The two ships touched down and the nobles and the North American observation party departed from the _Defender_ , their commanders impatient to meet with Colonel Hamilton. The search of the boarded ship had revealed something very important.

The two commanders and both Colonels were in Hamilton's office. The Tristainian Captain had gone to meet with Henrietta personally.

"This is what we've found," Reynolds reported as he handed them some papers clearly from Halkeginia. Colonel Hamilton's expression became much graver. as he went through them. One was a diagram and crude map of the base. One was a written description of what a US or Canadian soldier looked like. Another was written in English (or Albion): a guarantee of payment a large sum of gold in exchange for raiding "the outworlder's airship base". There was also a letter saying that Henrietta and her regency council would be at the base today.

"So it seems that Oliver Cromwell has found out about our little operation and wanted to attack us with proxies," Hamilton said as he read the papers.

"The people back home aren't going to like that," Roberts added, "The spy game is one thing. This is entirely different."

"This is an act of war Roberts," Hamilton stated.

"We've also found potential information about another spy ring," Caroll said as he pointed to a journal, "I don't know if the intel guys know about it though."

"We'll hand this to them as soon as we can."

"What about the spy?" Roberts asked, "Did you capture him?"

Reynolds shook his head.

"He was on the deck when the engagement began… got hit by a stray fireball and burnt to a crisp. We only recognized him because of his necklace."

"I see. Any other ViP's?"

"We got their captain. Man was next to the spy. He's in bad shape with some nasty burns since we think that fireball that got the spy was meant for the captain instead. The corpsman patched him up though," Caroll briefed, "We should be able to get something out of him eventually."

"We'll let the intelligence agencies pick him apart. Right now, our concern is that this base and all our men are being purposely targeted." Hamilton stated.

"We can ask for additional reinforcements. Albion did escalate and threatening us directly with military action can justify more troops for us." Roberts pointed out, "We both know how President Trump works."

"Will your government be willing to send any more?" Hamilton asked.

"I'm certain of it. The Prime Minister will not take kindly to this."

"Good." Hamilton stood up. "I send in the after action report and the request. We're going to be busy for the next few days."

* * *

In another room, Henrietta and the Regency Council received the news too. Shock was spread across all their faces. All of them, except for Henrietta.

"How could they have known?!" Du Poitier exclaimed as he digested the news.

"They mentioned capturing spies around here. Perhaps they missed some," Delage noted, "Let us hope that Minister Richemont has found what he was looking for."

"Maybe the spies are part of that group then," Marianne said.

"At least we've know that they can help us in battle," Du Poitier remarked as he thought back to what he had witnessed earlier.

"This attack isn't something they'll take lightly," Mazarin noted gravely, "Will they commit to more aid for us? We are still a small nation compared to them."

Henrietta cleared her throat, catching their attention.

"We have nothing to fear from them," she declared firmly, "If anything, this only proves to them that Reconquista is a grave threat."

"Anyone that messed with the Americans on Earth, it always ended badly for them," Saito pointed out, "So if anything, Cromwell's done for."

The Regency council couldn't but shudder involuntarily. American fury was scary.

The sound of a door opening followed by a light chuckle caught their attention.

"I must say M. Saito," Ambassador Fitzgerald said smiling, "You always seem to know how to put fear of the US into people's hearts."

Saito stammered while the man still grinned

"Ambassador Ambroise told me what you said to them about my nation. It made my day."

"Greetings Ambassador Fitzgerald," Henrietta said with a bow, "Have you had news from President Trump?"

He nodded.

"Yes, my president is furious to say the least. He's planning on addressing the American people tomorrow morning."

"Would it possible for us to see or hear this address?" Mazarin asked, "Surely it must possible with your technology."

"Yes it would possible to arrange something." Fitzgerald finally said.

"Do we have word from Canada?" Marianne asked hurriedly, noticing M. Ambroise's absence.

"M. Ambroise is currently discussing with his prime minister. He should done soon but I believe that M. Trudeau is taking this very seriously right now."

* * *

"This world or that one, we will not be pushed around by criminals." Trump declared with cold fury. The Pentagon had announced the incident to the American public the night it had happened. The following morning, Trump stood in the Press Room to address the situation.

"We have been patient. We have held back and given Oliver Cromwell and Reconquista a chance for peaceful talks. These criminals have refused to explain their actions, refused to talk to us!" The cameras flashed. The reporters listened in rapt focus.

"These are not sensible people. Sensible people want peace and for their people to prosper. Our new friends in Tristain are sensible people! M. Trudeau and I have agreed to send more assistance to her Highness, Princess Henrietta as they have proven to be sensible people who understand how things should be done!"

"People have been saying we should stop. That we shouldn't get involved with this world. Those people are WRONG. This is a vital undertaking for our country, and for our world. There is a lot of good that can be achieved here for everyone. Already we're talking to many other nations in this world and it's looking like we can make a lot of good deals with them. Albion, this cruel and unjust nation, is the only bad guy in all of this."

"We have never bowed to foreign attempts to harm or undermine us, and we will not sit by and let travesties occur. Not Russia, not Syria, and not Albion either!"

* * *

As Trump's speech finished, Trudeau began his in Ottawa. Minister Sajjan had already informed the media of the attack yesterday evening but the Prime Minister had chosen to wait the next day to appear publicly.

"My fellow Canadians, as you may have already known, our training base in Tristain has been attacked by Albion," His tone was very somber and grave unlike his American counterpart, "It was fortunate that our brave soldiers along with our American allies have been able to stop this attack through their great skill. They are safe now."

Canada held its breath but knew what was to come.

"I am saddened that Albion has chosen the path of aggression rather than peace. Great things could have been achieved by humanity through peaceful means but Oliver Cromwell and Reconquista have chosen ignorance and aggression instead."

He paused before confirming what many was to come.

"In the coming days, the Canadian Armed Forces will cross the portal alongside the American military to protect the innocent people of Tristain to defend their right to sovereignty and self-determination. It is our duty as a free nation to help those in need. Therefore, we must act quickly so that Oliver Cromwell and Albion understand that the Free World will not stand for his aggressions."

The public and the rest of the world were going crazy over the speeches. The worries about imperialism intensified. Both countries were starting to think they'd get thrown into a war. This wouldn't be like the cruise missile strikes in Syria, they could just tell. The wonder, novelty, and utility of the new world was now being almost matched by a desire to leave it be just to avoid conflict.

Social media was flaring to life. Pacifists clashed bitterly with militarists while protests and counter-protests were called. Insults were thrown around like snowballs while pundits were already furiously preparing their shows and articles for the upcoming days as they knew that the prospect of conflict would skyrocket ratings and newspaper sales.

Even other nations were getting ready, just in case. Old allies pledged assistance, especially the British who were horrified that another Oliver Cromwell had been unleashed on an alternate Britain and seemed ready to reach their world too.

Old enemies condemned the situation with accusations ranging from undeclared invasion to false flag operation. Their delegates at the UN were already getting ready to voice their displeasure and wanted the UN to conduct an independent investigation.

The business and scientific worlds cursed Albion and Cromwell. There was still so much to learn, and still so much money to make. Both sides, one focused on profit and the other focused on the greater good, nonetheless came together to support a forceful response to save what had already been accomplished.

However, while everyone was arguing, the troops were already on the move, just in case.

* * *

Henrietta and her regency council as well as Louise and Saito were staring at Ambassador Fitzgerald's laptop. They were watching President Trump's latest speech. The man showed no hesitation, no fear… only pure anger. That American love of war showed again.

By comparison, Trudeau's speech was better received, being more reserved. Less anger and more regret. But it promised the exact same thing as Trump's speech.

Richemont was at his wit's end. These people could not be real. All they were doing, all they were risking for a nation and world they'd known less than a year. It was illogical. What reasons could it possibly be? Security? They were already so powerful! Trade? It could not possibly match what they were spending to be here. It was just impossible; these people had to have ulterior motives.

But the others held no reservations at all; they all seemed glad. The confirmation Albion was directly encouraging attacks against them now had blown over as near inconsequential.

"Excuse me Ambassador Fitzgerald," the archduchess said, "But is this a war declaration?"

The ambassador shook his head.

"No, this is an escalation for us. Our goal is to respond to Albion's aggression and make sure that they understand that we will answer to every hostile action they will take," he explained, "Declaring war is a very serious act in our world."

"But why are you sending your troops then?" Richemont asked furiously, "If not for a war!"

"When our allies are being threatened by their enemies, we send our troops to reassure them," Fitzgerald explained, "Just in case if anything happens, we'll be able to intervene swiftly to aid Tristain."

"This is an incredible act of charity." Cardinal Mazarin remarked.

"On the contrary, we have stakes in this situation as well," the American replied, "Reconquista takes that portal and we have a hostile nation on our doorstep led by a violent, fanatical and unpredictable man." He further elaborated. "You and your people are good people. Trade has been fair and we've learned a lot from each other. That is worth defending to us."

"Thank you Ambassador Fitzgerald," Henrietta said, bowing her head gratefully. Merely half a year ago her Kingdom seemed at the verge of existing. No allies, a hostile neighbor, an insufficient military and rampant corruption. What dark times those had seemed to be.

"I hope that our nations will continue to prosper together," Delage said as he looked back on those dark times himself. Now, many of the nobles had been swayed and quite a few commoners were happier. Corruption was at an all time low. The many Noble's armies had either grown or been requipped. Their Navy, while still pitifully small, had slowly gotten good ships and would be retrained before too long.

Truly, they'd benefited greatly from trusting these people.

"Our leaders believe the same First Minister."

The meeting soon concluded officially. Richemont left very quickly for his manor but the rest of the council met in an alcove. Henrietta stayed to discuss with Louise and Saito.

"It seems that her Highness has proven herself to be right about this new world." Mazarin remarked. "These people may have strange customs and they may not be blessed by the Founder...but they are compassionate and trustworthy."

"Indeed," Delage agreed, turning to the Queen. "Your daughter has done much for the Kingdom. I confess that I may have underestimated the Princess."

"Princess is quite an unworthy title for her now, I think." The archduchess said cautiously, gauging the other two's reaction.

Both nodded.

"You may be right." Delage admitted. "I'm sure we all remember the incident at the Gallia border…" That had caused no small amount of worry in Tristain's nobility. Richemont had been particularly angered. Unpredictable, yes, but the Mad King hadn't shown a threatening side to them until that day. "In fact, as grateful as I am to these outworlders, I feel we shouldn't forget we are our own sovereign Kingdom, something the other Blessed Realms seemed to have forgotten since King Henry died."

"Yes, luckily they are quite respectful of our sovereignty," Mazarin added, "I am lucky that we are with strong allies. But back to the subject of the Princess, perhaps it is indeed time she officially take to the throne."

"I believe it too," Archduchess Marianne stated, a hint of pride in her voice, "She has finally proven herself worthy being our queen."

* * *

"See? Told you shit would escalate!" Huynh said to a fellow officer as their men finished packing their equipment and began getting boarding trucks heading to the portal. True to their word, the deployments were expanding. More guards for both sides of the portal, and more troops at that base.

Canada had chosen to mobilize both Regular and Reserve Force units. That included the 4th Battalion of the Royal 22e Régiment from Laval, a Montreal suburb. That unit would be part of those guarding the portal on the other side. The little trading post on the other side had already been cleared out. It would undoubtedly reform, but around a larger force of Tristainian and Canadian border guards.

"At least we're got new kit," Brisebois remarked as he and Huynh got in their G-Wagon.

"Feels good not having some hand-me downs from the Regulars eh?"

The radio operator nodded in agreement. Any unit sent to Tristain was being issued newer equipment. The gear and weapons hadn't been through dozens of hands and hundreds of exercises. Not exactly fresh out the crate, but close enough.

Things a Reserve unit like the 4/22 could only get on Christmas if everyone had been nice that year and if the stars aligned properly.

Huynh contacted each section of his infantry platoon, confirming that they were all ready to go before contacting his company commander. Finally, he issued one of the most important orders of his career.

"All callsigns one, this is station one-nine, Budweiser one."

His four sections sounded their confirmation that they had received their orders to depart for the portal. The sound of truck engines mixed with the usual sound of early mornings as the Van Doos left their armoury in Laval.

After all these months of staring at that portal and wondering what was on the other side, on a late July morning, Huynh and his troops would finally get to see what was on the other side.

 **Author's endnote: And Voilà! What a chapter eh? Hope you guys and gals enjoyed it. Please leave a review!**


	11. Chapter 9: Past and Future

**Disclaimer: FoZ/ZnT belong to the departed Noboru Yamaguchi and whoever inherited the I.P.. Any real life organisation/person is merely being used in a fictional non-profit way.**

 **Author's note: Longest chapter I ever wrote personally. As always, special thanks to Trainalf for the help. Hope you all enjoy this chapter.**

 **I also reworked the earlier chapters a bit so check them out if you can.**

 **Past and Future**

The reprisal campaign had ended successfully for Reconquista and terribly for those who'd thought themselves so bold as to deny their rule. Airlann was secured and its people broken. That was the good news of the day for Cromwell. Unfortunately, now was time for the bad news.

"Impossible!" he muttered angrily as he looked at the reports from his highest ranking spy in Tristain. It made him want to pull out his hair. He'd told his lower spies to act with the utmost discretion, and the fools had done nothing but fail spectacularly.

Their entire spy effort seemed to have fallen apart in just a few short months. They were supposed to only distract the outworlders, but they seemed to have done nothing but antagonize them. And now they'd gone and delivered proof of Albion's attempts to undermine Tristain straight into their hands.

And now these outworlders were sending hundreds of their troops into Tristain. If what the report was true… a handful were able to defeat a fully loaded warship and take it out with one single blow! Damn these people- they were becoming a bigger obstacle to his plans than he ever could have anticipated.

"Lord-Protector?" a familiar, soft voice interrupted his angry musings.

"Sheffield, this is a calamity," he said tensely, "How can we hope to salvage such a situation?"

The woman closed her eyes and smiled.

"My lord, a few soldiers, no matter how well armed, cannot hope to match those blessed by Brimir. This is but a test of our faith in Him," she calmly stated, "If anything, this has merely proven that those who fell did not believe enough in his Blessings. Only the faithful will triumph over such miscreants."

"We are not ready to invade yet." Cromwell insisted. Even after the war and the insurrection, the armies were still reorganizing.

"We can, my Lord!" Sheffield insisted, "Do you not remember our Revolution against the Tudors! We were nowhere as powerful as them yet we now rule from their Palace! Can you not see that this is the will of Brimir?"

Cromwell paused and took in her words. She was right. Hesitation was a sign of wavering faith in Brimir, something he could not afford if he wanted to maintain his good fortunes. He had not hesitated when it came to usurping the throne, and now it was his.

"Let us plan the invasion then." He decided. He'd take Tristain for the glory of the Founder, and cast out these heretical outworlders at the same time.

Sheffield smiled.

"As you wish my Lord."

* * *

The main gate to the Imperial Palace in Vindabona swung open, revealing a small banquet. The two men chosen by the US and Canada to be the Ambassadors to Germania were flanked by their security details.

"I still have trouble believing that I'm standing in a medieval version of Germany," Ambassador Hugo Schmidt whispered to his Canadian counterpart.

"Me either," Francis Johnson replied, "If anything, they should be easier to deal with than the Tristainians. They look rather… straightforward as a people."

Unlike Ambroise and Fitzgerald, their arrival in Germania had been much less celebrated. There was no great banquet like in Tristania, the Emperor having insisted on meeting them in private.

There was a dozen guards in heavy plate armour that stood watch in the room.

"Greetings Ambassadors!" a booming voice resonated, "I, Emperor Albert III, welcome you to Vindabona!"

"Greetings your Imperial Majesty," both ambassadors replied as they took their first good luck at the Germanian Emperor. He was a young man, probably in his mid-twenties at best. His tanned skin, long blond hair and blue eyes screamed 'German stereotype'. Dressed in black, his clothing was less elaborate than those of the Tristainians but had golden trim that depicted the Germanian Imperial Crest, a stylized eagle.

"So, I believe that you have travelled all this way to discuss of business? Am I not mistaken?" he asked as they walked up to the table and took a seat.

"Yes your Imperial Majesty," Schmidt answered politely as he sat down, "We would to extend the same deals that we've offered Tristain- permanent diplomatic contact and economic ties."

"Wonderful! Would you like to visit our finest blacksmiths or alchemists then?" The Emperor suggested, "Perhaps you would be able to find something of your taste? I also would like to see what you can offer my Empire. I believe we can easily find common ground if we put in the effort."

"Not so fast, your Imperial Majesty. There are a number of matters we need to discuss first." Johnson replied.

"Such as?" The Emperor kept a jovial voice.

"We have rather...strict commercial practices in our world."

"Would you care to explain Ambassador Schmidt?" he asked more seriously, "My merchants are honest and fair in their dealings so you do not need to fear any unfair competition."

The truth was that Germanian merchants were generally aggressive in getting deals, much to the chagrin of their rivals.

"Yes, our nations have strict practices in order to protect our people when they buy foreign goods." Schmidt explained.

"Protect your people?"

Ambassador Johnson nodded as he placed his hands on the table.

"Yes, for example, quality control is extremely important for us." he explained, "We wish to make sure that our people buying foreign goods don't buy cheap trinkets."

"A terrible waste of coin," Albert III remarked in good nature, "I can understand your reasoning Ambassador Johnson."

"Not just a terrible waste of coin," Schmidt added, "But also a danger for them. Imagine buying a foreign made suit of armor and discovering that it was shoddily made while in combat."

"Ah, a truly unfortunate situation indeed." He said, while taking their words as a slip of the tongue. These people wanted weapons and armor? Germania could certainly provide that. For a price. "But you will find that our metal workers are the best in all of Halkeginia."

"We don't doubt that, your Imperial Majesty," Johnson replied politely, "Though we are not interested in trading weapons and armour."

"Really? Pity." Albert III replied, wondering if they were perhaps lying to save face. "But if you insist, we punish lying merchants very severely for selling bad wares." That was true- no one liked being swindled. If someone was foolish enough to overpay for a good, that was on them. But bad goods? Entirely on the merchant. You could find a seedy merchant being pulled apart by horses every month or so at the Great Market of Vindobona. The Merchant's Guild was merciless in its pursuit of profit and did not like risking its good name.

"We also like to make it clear we do not condone or buy products made by anything that can be considered slave labor or that otherwise takes advantage of common workers."

"I see." The Emperor acknowledged. These people certainly seemed to see themselves as being on a moral high horse. Then again, they were supposedly all commoners themselves. In Germania, a country where any man could be a noble regardless of magic as long as he made enough coin, there wasn't as great a divide between the classes. Still, talk like that wouldn't make them popular.

"Is there anything else?" The young Emperor asked. Nothing they'd said so far was a deal breaker. None of it was even unreasonable.

"Yes, actually, the most important part, which will depend entirely on you as the ruler of these lands and all the nobles within it."

"I'm listening."

"We want guarantees and action to ensure that any of our merchants will be safe in your lands. Safe from excessive taxation from nobles, undermining or violent action from other merchants, or bandits."

"Your demands are quite reasonable Ambassador," Albert III replied, "We can easily work together. What do your nations have to offer us then?"

"Many things your Imperial Majesty," Schmidt promised. "We are accomplished chefs, as many Tristainians will attest to."

"I see." The Emperor acknowledged.

"We are very skilled craftspeople as well. Clothes, furniture, and other items."

"Very well," Albert said before clapping his hands, "Johan! Please summon Lord von Kahlenberg of the Merchants' Guild for a meeting."

"Merchants' Guild? May we ask what that is?"

"It is a powerful organisation in Germania that oversees all of our merchants. They ensure that all trade is conducted properly and fairly," the Emperor explained proudly, "The Guild is one of our greatest prides and contributes greatly to Germanian might."

"We see." The ambassadors looked at each other and nodded. "That is very reassuring for us."

"I do hope so."

Talks would carry on for the remainder of the day and several days after, but by the end of the week a series of arrangements were made that, in due time, would fully open the doors to trade.

* * *

Siesta exited the Academy's servant quarters. Rather than wearing her usual uniform, the maid wore a simple green dress and a fur coat to shield her from the cold as she made her way outside the Academy gate. She had been summoned by a special group of people- the otherworldly scholars that had been staying at the Academy for most of the last year.

In the distance, she could hear the sound of construction and men working. It was the soldiers from Canada and the United States who were fortifying the portal. They had arrived in ever greater numbers.

The young maid sighed as she thought of the Earth merchants that had come and set up shop. Their goods were impressive and quite affordable in some cases. Siesta had shopped there once, buying some of the nice Earth clothing for her siblings. It was a shame that these goods were not yet widespread throughout Tristain.

The tales she had heard about Earth impressed her, Saito having been turned into a celebrity once word got out he was from that world. The other mages would constantly try and ask him questions about Earth. And Louise would always quickly pull him away. She still remembered Saito talking about his home after he first arrived. Who would've thought it was even more wonderful than he described?

Some were quickly horrified when they heard how Canada and the United States were led… by leaders chosen by commoners. Chef Marteau had roared in laughter when he heard about their reactions, the man having no love for the spoiled and arrogant nobles. It was ironic that the nobles were being helped by nations that had no nobility.

"Hey Siesta! How are you doing?"

It was Saito, with Louise standing next to him.

"I'm doing fine Saito," she answered kindly as she looked at the two lovebirds, "And you Miss Vallière?"

"I am fine Siesta," Louise answered, "So you've accepted the invitation for this expedition with the professors?"

"Yes, for someone like me, it was hard to refuse. I am but a simple maid afterall and adventures aren't common for me."

"You're not some common maid Siesta," Saito pointed out, "You're also our friend, right Louise?"

The mage nodded in agreement.

"Yes, Saito's right. We did save you from Count Mott."

Siesta shuddered at the mention of that name.

"Also, her Highness had him arrested last week," Louise added happily, "Minister Richemont found out that he was a spy for Reconquista!"

The maid was shocked, but pleased at this turn of events.

"Do tell," she asked excitedly, her eyes shining, "How did this happen?"

"Turns out Mott sold out the Princess while they were visiting the training base," Saito explained, "He told Reconquista that she was visiting and they hired pirates to attack us. The soldiers fought them off and took some prisoners."

"When her Highness returned to Tristain, Minister Richemont was waiting for her with evidence of Count Mott's crimes. The Minister said that he already arrested the count!" Louise declared happily as Siesta smiled.

"Finally, that dirty pervert got his due."

"Hello everyone,"

It was Professor Colbert accompanied by Leroy and Richer. All three men had packed for the journey. There was also a few students from the Academy, namely Guiche, Tabitha and Kirche. They had come as part of a field trip for Colbert's class while the others had chosen to take the day off.

Some things never changed no matter the world and students fleeing from non-mandatory school activities was one of them.

Getting their expedition approved by both authorities had been difficult. Officials on both sides had been too busy dealing with security and responding to the attack to bother with any of the scientific or business parties. They'd had no choice but to wait for close to two weeks until the Americans and Canadians calmed down enough to listen to the scientific requests.

But they'd been quick to grant it once they'd heard them. It'd been a long time since the subject came up, but officials back on earth and here in Halkegenia were still interesting in finding any examples of Earth weaponry in the new world. And so once they set out, they not only did so with government funded transportation, but an armed escort provided by the Canadian Army.

A group of LAV-III's and a G-Wagon halted outside the gates of the Academy and two men stepped out of one the vehicles- the platoon leader and his Pronto. The pair approached Colbert and his party.

"Good day everyone," He greeted, "I'm Lieutenant Kinh-Luyên Huynh, Royal 22e Régiment."

"Hello Lieutenant," Leroy answered back, "I take it that you are our guards for today?"

The man nodded as they shook hands and introduced themselves.

"Exactly. I've also been notified that this is a field trip to find possible items from earth?"

"Yes," Colbert answered, "Some of my students will be accompanying us."

"Is that everyone?" The Lieutenant asked, counting them and making sure that he had enough spare seating for them. Colbert nodded.

"Brisebois, radio HQ for another truck." the Canadian ordered as his radio operator nodded before he turned his attention to them, "We'll be riding with the locals."

Saito took a good glance at the men as they introduced themselves to the others. Both wore white camouflage over their green uniforms. Huynh was an average man that was clearly Asian with black hair, dark brown eyes behind a pair of glasses and large front teeth while his pronto was a tall redhead with pale brown eyes.

"I'm Lady Kirche Augusta Frederica Von Anhalt-Zerbst, the Ardent Flame of Germania," Kirche said in her usual seductive tone as she flipped her hair, "I am quite pleased to such fine and handsome soldiers. This is Flame, my familiar."

She pointed to a red lizard that clearly looked like a Pokemon.

"T-thank you Lady Von Anhalt-Zerbst," Huynh stammered briefly before clearing his throat, "Sprechen sie Deutsch Frau?"

Kirche's eyes lit up in surprise.

"Ja, aber ist kein Deutsch. Es ist Germanian."

"Didn't know you spoke German sir?" Brisebois remarked, slightly rolling his eyes at his superior's showing off.

"Just a bit."

Kirche was a bit disappointed while the men moved on to Tabitha who introduced herself in her usual monoworded way. The girl looked absolutely tiny next to the two Canadians.

"Tabitha."

"Oh come on Tabitha, you can at least tell them about your titles," Kirche exclaimed, "She is Tabitha the Blizzard, Chevalier de Norfault."

"Not necessary."

"Pleased to meet you Chevalier."

When it was Saito and Louise's turn to be introduced, both Canadian soldiers froze for an instant before talking. The two men had already seen them at the Portal when the Princess had arrived.

"Hello Lieutenant Huynh, I'm Hiraga Saito and this is Lady Louise-Françoise Le Blanc de la Vallière," the teen said.

"Pleased to meet you My Lady, M. Hiraga," Huynh replied, "Or is it M. Saito?"

The teen was surprised.

"How did you-"

"Guess which one was your last name?" the Canadian replied, "I happen to be Vietnamese and if wasn't for the fact that I was in the Army, I'd introduce myself by Huynh Kinh-Luyên. So you aren't from around here are you?"

Louise grew nervous again and wrapped her arm around his. Could this man take Saito away?

"I'm from Japan in fact."

His eyes narrowed for a few seconds.

"I see. Must be an interesting story how you got here eh?"

"Yes sir."

"Well, you can tell us about it later then kid."

The pair of Canadian troops finally got to the last one in the group, Guiche. He puffed out his chest like a peacock before waving his rose wand dramatically.

"I am Guiche André-François de Grammond, The bronze, third son of Marshal François-Joseph Louis de Grammond," he boasted dramatically, "My father's army is the one that guards Tristain's southern borders. I am honored to finally meet the fine soldiers of our new Canadian allies."

"I'm pleased to meet you milord," Huynh replied flatly, not impressed by the young man's theatrics.

"This is my beloved and magnificent Verdandi."

He pointed to what seemed to be an oversized mole.

"Pleased to meet you Verdandi."

"What about you?" Brisebois asked Siesta, "You are?"

She curtsied before the corporal. "I am Siesta. I'm a maid here at the Academy. I was invited by Professor Colbert."

Huynh couldn't help but have an odd feeling about Siesta. Her traits were unusual compared to the other mages he saw so far.

"Please, there's no need to for such formalities Miss," the corporal said quickly, "I'm a very average man."

"Yes." The mage explained. "The town we're going to- Tarbes- is her home. We hoped she could help us as a guide." Lieutenant Huynh nodded.

"So what are we looking for, exactly?" He directed the question at Leroy and Richer.

"Well, Lieutenant, we're investigating the possibility of a lost aircraft being here."

"I see. Any idea what it is?"

"It looks like a monoplane painted in green and white," Richer answered, "It's been here for almost a century according to the local legends. Do you still have that drawing Jean?"

Colbert nodded and rummaged through his pack.

"Almost a hundred years eh?" Huynh had a hand on his chin, "Must be from the 30's or 40's then. You're in luck, I happen to be a historian."

"Here you go Lieutenant," Colbert said, handing the man the drawing. Huynh's brow furrowed in concentration as he analyzed the drawing. Siesta glimpsed it from the side and her eyes went wide.

"Definitely from the late 30's to early 40's. This could be very interesting."

Just then, another truck arrived.

"We'll continue this conversation on the truck," Huynh said as he led the group to the truck. Tabitha walked up to him.

"Not needed," she said as Sylphid landed next to her, "Will meet you in Tarbes."

"Right. Everyone on board!" he called out, pointing towards the truck, "Brisebois, you get on first and give them a hand getting on."

"Yes sir," Brisebois climbed on the back of the truck and began helping Saito climb up. The teen then helped Louise get up. Siesta was then hoisted on board by Brisebois. Another pair of soldiers came up to help but there was a slight holdup after Colbert, Leroy and Richer got on board.

"Excuse me Lieutenant," Kirche asked, "But what about our familiars?"

"Huh?"

"Will they be able to ride on your wagon?" she said, pointing to Flame.

The soldiers glanced at the creatures for a moment.

"Will they stay calm?" He asked. That lizard looked like it could put some heavy dents in metal if it started flailing in a panic. Or roast the nearest living person that was unfortunate to be near it. The mole looked fairly harmless on the other hand.

"Flame is a very calm being despite him being as passionate as I am," Kirche replied dramatically, "I have well tamed his ardors."

"Are the students really necessary, Professor Colbert?" Huynh asked politely. The man nodded.

"Yes, it was an expedition organised by me and my colleagues to showcase your world's technology."

"Ah, I understand." the lieutenant said simply, "Very well, we'll get their familiars on board."

"But do not needlessly burden yourself Lieutenant Huynh or your men," Guiche said pompously, "Please tell your men to get out of the way. We can bring our familiars on board."

The officer waved his hand and his men moved out of the way. Guiche then waved his rose wand at Verdandi and chanted a spell. The giant mole-like being began to calmly float towards the back of the truck before landing smoothly.

"I must admit milord," Huynh whistled, "That is quite useful."

"It was but childplay's for me Lieutenant."

Kirche soon did the same thing with Flame. Soon after, the convoy was off towards Tarbes.

"So," Huynh cleared his throat, "Excuse me professors but did you figure out how that portal works?"

The trio of scholar shook their heads.

"We've been working hard on it on both sides of the portal," Leroy answered, "But it's still quite the enigma. Even the mages here don't understand it."

"I must admit that our attentions have been divided between understanding that portal and understand this world's magic," Richer admitted, slightly embarrassed, "So things might have been slower than planned."

Huynh shook his head.

"I can understand. I mean we are dealing with another world at the same time. Some of my friends are itching to come here and check up the place."

"Oh?" Colbert asked, "Are they scientists as well?"

"Yes Professor Colbert," he answered, "Historians to be exact. They can't wait to see how this world became what it is right now. I can understand them since I'm one myself."

"That's what you were saying earlier no?" Saito asked.

"Yup, graduated as a Master's of Contemporary History." The Lieutenant answered proudly, much to the surprise of many of those riding with them.

"Well, some people are making money off the betting pool."Brisebois commented suddenly.

"But why Sir Brisebois?" Guiche asked.

"First off, don't 'sir' me milord," the corporal replied, "I'm just a plain old corporal. Second, we were trying to guess what our officer was doing as a job before he joined the army."

"So you think I was what before?" Huynh asked with a sly grin.

"Well, you're obviously a historian so you must have been a professor."

His CO chuckled.

"Close but not really. Keep guessing gentlemen."

A scowl appeared on Brisebois's face.

"But if you're a scholar," Guiche noted, "Why are you a soldier? Wouldn't it be an easier life?"

"Because I wanted something different I guess." Huynh replied nonchalantly, "That and being an officer helps pay the bills."

"Besides, we're reservists here," Brisebois added, "So we can hold other jobs outside of the Army."

"Reservists?" Siesta asked, "So you are not just soldiers?"

"Well being an officer is more demanding than rank-and-file so it's the only job I have," Huynh explained, "But many of my men have other jobs outside the army."

"Does that mean you are militiamen?!" Guiche spluttered as he realized what these men were before feeling the death glares from the two men.

"Not really. We're trained just as well as the Regular Forces… hell we even have to work harder so we don't let ourselves go." Brisebois answered darkly.

"I meant no offense." Guiche recomposed himself, "It's just that… I didn't expect you to be militiamen. You look so powerful."

"None taken milord."

"But then what is your other job Corporal Brisebois?" Siesta asked curiously.

"Me? I work in a small restaurant in my hometown," he answered casually, "Flipping burgers, frying fries and steaming hot-dogs."

"Burgers? Fries? Hot-dogs?" Siesta tilted her head.

"Ah. You guys don't have those?"

Siesta shook her head.

The corporal began to explain the intricacies of fast-food to the Tristainians, much to his lieutenant's amusement. Saito at some point asked the corporal if he made teriyaki burgers and was disappointed while Kirche occasionally made rather innuendo filled comments. Meanwhile, Siesta was listening raptly to Brisebois' explanations, hoping that she could bring the recipes to Chef Marteau.

Finally, Huynh ordered the platoon to stop after an hour. It was lunchtime after all. His LAV-III's stood watch while his troops were split into two shifts. One to stand guard while the others ate.

"Any of you brought food?" the Lieutenant asked his guests. They all nodded.

"Yes I did," Guiche said dramatically, "But I wish to taste your army's food. Such a mighty ally must surely have excellent rations for their warriors."

The Lieutenant did not miss the silent laughter and fake gagging of his platoon.

"Sure," one of his men said, suppressing a grin, "I could give him some milord."

Some of his squadmates were glaring at him as he placed his ration bag in front of Guiche. The mage noticed the rather odd smell of the food before taking a spoonful and gagging in disgust. Saito and Louise couldn't help but laugh at his predicament. Kirche was howling about the look on his face.

"H-How can you eat this? This is utterly vile!"

Huynh merely shook his head as he had another bite of his food.

"Well milord, these are excellent rations," he explained, "They feed us enough so we can fight as hard as we can. Doesn't mean it has taste better than it does."

"But what about you? Surely a leader shouldn't eat better fare then his men?" he asked.

"Not at all, we all eat the same thing. Helps with cohesion and morale." Huynh explained as he finished his ration, "A proper leader leads his men by example."

Guiche couldn't figure out anything to say.

"Besides," Brisebois chuckled, "The mightier the army, the worst its rations. Keeps the men angry and bloodthirsty for battle."

"Thank god we're not the Americans." Lieutenant Huynh remarked with a short laugh, "They're the most powerful army on Earth."

Guiche shuddered at the thought of even fouler rations.

"Sir?" one of the Canadian soldiers piped up, "Think we have time for them to show off their magic?

Huynh looked at his watch before glancing at his map, quickly calculating his time.

"I suppose we can," he finally said, "Anyone up for building snowmen?"

A few hands were raised and soon, the Van Doos were building up some targets. Three dozen hostile snowmen. Colbert had politely declined the invitation, stating that Kirche was talented enough to demonstrate Fire Magic.

"Alrighty, we've placed a few targets. You'll line up right here," Huynh instructed as he pointed to a line in the snow, "Those Reconquista snowmen are very hostile and need to be eliminated quickly. Each of you have to eliminate twelve targets."

Kirche proudly walked up and summoned a fireball that melted the dangerous snowmen. The rest of the soldiers watched without saying anything.

"That is the power of a true Germanian mage," she boasted, "Only true passion can control such might."

"Not bad at all," Huynh said, scribbling a few notes while trying to figure out if Fire magic would be banned on Earth like napalm.

Next up was Guiche. He chanted a spell before three valkyries appeared from the ground and charged the snowmen, cutting them down. That got a little bit of an reaction from the platoon.

"So you're an Earth mage right?" Huynh asked curiously.

"Yes, hence why I am Guiche the Bronze for I can summon Bronze valkyries to do my bidding."

"Think you can manipulate the ground underneath them?" Brisebois asked, "Like collapsing it under their feet?"

"Of course I can."

"Alright, it's your turn Lady Vallière," Huynh commanded as the pinkette walked up uncertainly.

"Excuse me Lieutenant Huynh," Kirche said worriedly, "But she is known as the Zero. She can't do magic."

"Yes I can!" Louise snapped irritably.

"I'm afraid Kirche is right." Guiche struck a pose. "Louise can produce explosions and nothing else."

"Really?" The Lieutenant looked at the pinkette with a raised eyebrow. "I'd like to see that. Go on." He encouraged. Louise stepped up nervously to her line facing six of the remaining snowman. She took a deep breath, raised her wand, and tried to cast a fire spell. Instead, the ground, and all the snowmen, exploded, leaving only a blackened crater behind.

There was an outbreak of whooping from the Canadian soldiers.

"THAT WAS SO FUCKING BADASS!"

"I believe our combat engineers would love to meet you Lady Vallière." Huynh said, recovering from the shock, jotting that down. That had been almost as big as a C4 charge or a mortar shell. Louise's jaw dropped in shock.

"Why are they cheering?" Kirche asked.

"Because a lot of our problems on the battlefield can easily be solved by a very large explosion," Brisebois explained with a laugh, "Enemy position in the way? Blast it to bits! Obstacle in the way? Blow it up!"

"Told you you were powerful," Saito said as he walked up to her and gave her a quick kiss. The mage stammered while some of the troops wolf whistled and cheered Saito to 'get sum'.

"N-not in front of so many strangers." But she didn't push him off. Louise wasn't used to being praised when she showed off her magic.

"As much as we've had fun," Huynh said seriously, "We have to leave now if we want to stay on schedule."

Soon, the sound of rumbling engines broke the quiet winter morning. Conversations were varied as the mages and Siesta talked with the Canadian troops that rode with them. Colbert in particular was rather quite curious about the Canadian Armed Forces.

"Lieutenant, I wanted know, if it's not too indiscreet," Colbert asked uneasily.

"Hmm go ahead?"

"Do you have any plans for after your time in your nation's army?"

Huynh placed a hand on his chin and looked upwards.

"Good question eh? I honestly never thought of it. Maybe write a book and get a nice teaching job." he said absentmindedly, "Why?"

"I have already seen wars in the past," Colbert explained soberly, "Innocents dying uselessly. Are wars common in your world?"

"Not really," Saito chimed in, "We're mostly at peace."

"A bit more complex than that," Huynh stated, "There's conflicts in alot of places on Earth, quite a few that are forgotten in fact despite taking place for a long time."

Saito looked at the lieutenant.

"Really sir? Like what?"

He looked pensive for a moment.

"Good question actually." he finally said sheepishly, "But to complete what I saying Professor Colbert, it's actually the most peaceful and safest period of my world's history. Less people are dying from war in fact."

"It warms my heart to hear that."

"This is actually the closest my men and I have gotten to a war," Huynh continued, "Most of the time, we get called up to help in relief efforts after natural disasters. Like last year, we had some extremely bad flooding and spent months helping people."

"That is quite commendable Lieutenant," Colbert said pleasantly.

"Anyhow, something's been bugging me though," Huynh said, changing the conversation, "So how did a Japanese kid like you end up in this place?"

"Well it's a long story sir," Saito admitted.

"Don't worry, you got an hour," Huynh replied while some of his men chuckled.

"I don't think you can beat our Lieutenant's bad stories," Brisebois remarked.

So the young man told his story of how he came to live in Halkeginia with Louise's help. She mainly made sure he didn't brag too much. There was much amusement from the Canadians when he explained how he described Canada and the United States. Louise had more or less told what really happened.

"To be honest, the Americans are sort of like that," one of the Canadian troopers chuckled.

"I actually saw you two arriving in Canada," Huynh added.

"What?"

"We were guarding the portal M. Hiraga. That's all I can say."

"Euh ok."

Nearly an hour had passed when the convoy, having travelled through snow-filled roads surrounded by barely touched forests reached the top of a hill.

Looking down, the passengers could see a large town. Smoke gently rose from the chimneys while children played around in the snow. Men returned to their homes, carrying firewood while women were carrying their foodstuff from the market. In the center was what they assumed was a church with its high tower.

' _Some things never change,_ ' Huynh mused as he turned to Siesta who was chatting with Brisebois.

"So Miss Siesta? Do you know anything about this 'Dragon's raiment'? It's a local legend around here, is it not?"

She nodded as she looked more serious.

"Yes, I must confess something important Lieutenant," she said.

"Hm?"

"I know exactly what it is you're looking for. I realized it as soon as I saw the drawing in your carriage."

"I see," Colbert cut in, "Do you know where it is Miss Siesta?"

"Yes, it's a relic that belongs to my family." she explained, "It's hidden in one of the caves."

The Earth professors and Lieutenant Huynh looked at her in surprise.

"How did it come into your family's possession exactly?" Leroy asked curiously. They got a bombshell answer.

"My great-grandfather was the man who wore the Dragon's Raiment." She explained, "He was a strange man from what my grandfather and father told me. He would tell them stories about where he came from."

"Do you know these stories Miss Siesta?" Huynh asked, more impatiently, "Do you know what his land was like?"

He took a good look at her and noticed the odd shape of her eyes compared to the other Halkeginians. He knew something about her seemed odd, now he realized: It reminded him erringly of his half-Vietnamese, half-Canadian relatives. This girl wasn't full Western European or whatever the people here were.

She nodded.

"I can tell you but my father remembers it better than me. He'd be happy to tell you about it."

"Of course, young lady." The Earth scientists agreed. She gave them directions to her family's home. As the IFV's and truck drove towards Tarbes, the townspeople stopped what they were doing. Some hid away inside their homes, fearful of these loud carriages and the strange men aboard them while others silently watched in curiosity. The sound of flapping wings confirmed that Tabitha and her familiar had been waiting for them. The silent girl landed with her dragon near the troop transports.

On his truck, Huynh was making a call back to headquarters, reporting the latest development and surprising his superiors. Once the convoy had stopped outside the city, Huynh and his men disembarked.

"Alarie, Gingras and Wai, I want you and your sections to guard the LAV's," he ordered his squad leaders, "Mahmoud, you and your section will be with me and the ViP's for this task. Understood?"

Everyone nodded in the affirmative before moving into position. Huynh's group walked into the town, with the inhabitants still looking at them. The Canadians would occasionally wave and smile at the locals, trying to reassure them of their goodwill.

"So miss Siesta?" Leroy said, "What can you tell us about your hometown?"

The maid was slightly flustered at being asked such a question.

"It's a small town really," she explained, "Nothing extraordinary about it."

"I see." Small towns holding extraordinary secrets? Like a book or movie.

"Here we are," Siesta said as they stopped in front of a house. The girl walked up the door and knocked on it, revealing a man and woman in their late forties. The maid quickly greeted her parents before her father noticed the mismatched group of scientists, nobles and unusually dressed musketeers.

"Who are these people?", he asked curiously as he eyed them.

"These are people that are from the Academy and Earth papa," she answered, "They've come to speak to you."

"Greeting sir," Leroy introduced himself, "I am professor Arthur Leroy from the Université de Montréal and the men with me are professors Jean Colbert and Benjamin Richer. The man guarding us is Lieutenant Kinh-Luyên of the Canadian Armed Forces. May we come in?"

The dark haired man glanced at the soldiers but Lieutenant Huynh shook his head.

"Don't worry sir, my men will stay outside and keep watch," he stated, "Only me and Corporal Brisebois will come in."

"Siesta, what is the meaning of this?" her mother asked, concerned at the sight of a such a party in front of their humble house.

"It's about great-grandfather," she explained, trying to break the tension, "They wish to see his Dragon's Raiment."

Siesta's father's face took a harsh expression.

"That relic is not for sell," he answered sternly. Leroy shook his head.

"M?"

"Franco Sasaki," he replied. "That is a family treasure entrusted to my care."

Huynh shook his head. That name was definitely Asian sounding. He felt someone tapping on his shoulder and turned his head to an excited Saito.

"Gimme a sec alright?" The lieutenant waved him off. This was a professional matter.

"Sir, your family treasure might be a dangerous weapon from our world." He explained professionally, "We have orders to confirm if this is true or not."

"M. Sasaki," Leroy continued, "We believe also that your grandfather was from our world. Seeing this weapon would confirm this theory."

"I believe that this Dragon's Raiment could greatly help Tristain," Colbert added, "I merely wish to see it."

"And if you refuse, I'm afraid I'll have to tell my superiors. And they will have to talk to Princess Henrietta." The Canadian officer warned. Now Siesta's father looked concerned. It wasn't hard to see that sentence as a threat.

"Excuse me Lieutenant?" Saito nagged much to the man's annoyance.

"Yes" he said, barely hiding exasperation.

"Sasaki is a Japanese name sir." Saito pointed out, causing the gears in the Lieutenant's head to turn. Siesta gasped lightly at hearing this.

"May come we inside? It's quite cold out here and we don't want your home to lose it's heat," Richer suggested before introducing himself. Franco nodded as his wife led them inside. The scientists, Colbert, and Lieutenant Huynh soon followed. The students and the two infantry sections stayed outside. After a bit of back and forth between the adults, Saito (and by extension Louise) were allowed too due to the cultural link he could provide.

As they entered the small house, they could see a young teenager along with six other children staring at them fearfully before scampering away. It was fairly rustic in appearance with simple wooden furniture and few decorations. The sound of a fire crackling added to its rusticness.

Arriving in the dining room, they could see a round table with enough sitting place.

Siesta's mother had started cooking as while everyone sat down.

"So what makes you certain that my family treasure is a weapon from your world?" Franco asked warily.

Colbert produced his drawing and showed it to the father.

"I heard of it from a merchant that had travelled through Tarbes who told me what it looked like," the mage explained, "He also had a vial of its blood that I bought and replicated. When I showed these two things to my friends from Earth, they recognized as an airplane from their world."

"Airplane?"

"Our world's airships," Leroy explained, "The story that Colbert told us has us believing that it's from a period of war on Earth."

"Can you tell us about your grandfather?" Richer spoke up, "How he came to this land?"

Franco nodded.

"When I was a child, my grandfather Takeo, would tell us stories from his world. He claimed that he was an honorable sky knight that fought for his God-Emperor against a barbaric alliance of states that encroached on his people's lands and to protect their women and children from those barbarians."

Huynh looked like he had bit a very sour lemon. Siesta was listening intently, always loving to hear about that amazing story. It was even better now that she could have heard about the world where her great-grandfather came from. Saito was fascinated as well… it was a bridge to Japan.

"Sky knight?" Leroy asked.

The man nodded.

"He and his partner were flying over a great peaceful sea in their Dragon Raiments to train to take off from great island ships when the single moon of their world blocked their sun," Franco continued, "Both of them appeared in our world and flew until his partner disappeared. My grandfather's Dragon Raiment ran out of power and he landed near here."

"What happened next?" Saito asked suddenly.

"My grandfather ran across a young woman that tried to help him," Franco continued, "And she taught him the ways of our land. She was my grandmother."

"Did he have any troubles getting used to your lands?" Huynh asked, thinking how lucky it was that the man in question didn't go full Nanking on the local girl.

"His language was unlike any of those spoken here and even later in his life, it still showed," the man explained.

"I see."

"His Dragon's Raiment was one of the most precious things that he had and he would spend much of his time caring for it. When he got old, my grandfather paid a noble to put a spell to protect it and demanded that he be buried next to it."

The Earth scientists and the lieutenant all had the same idea but it was Richer that spoke up first.

"Listen, M. Sasaski," he pleaded, "Please allow us to return that plane to Earth. I assure you that we have people that will take very good care of the Raiment. It is a valuable thing in our world."

"There's also a chance that you may have relatives still living on Earth as well," Leroy added, "They would be very happy to realize that they have family here. I think it would also allow to see how your ancestors lived on Earth. Surely you've been curious about the world your grandfather talked about so much? This is an opportunity for you to find out."

Huynh momentarily glared at Leroy but kept his cool. Siesta's father still looked agitated when his wife placed a bowl of soup in front of him. Saito's eyes lit up as he recognized its smell while Louise did her best to avoid drooling.

"Sir? Do you know what that is?" he asked, throwing a glance at the bowl.

Franco nodded.

"It's a soup that my grandfather taught my grandmother. It's passed down from generation to generation in our family. I've even taught Siesta how to make it."

"It's a Japanese soup. My mother used to make it for me."

"Really?"

Saito nodded.

"Papa, can you show them the Dragon's Raiment?" Siesta pleaded, "They are trustworthy and they will hold their promise."

"To be honest sir," Huynh added, "A lot of people on Earth will be willing to pay you a large sum of money for it. A plane built from that period is a treasured relic on Earth by many collectors."

The man finally relented.

"I will take you to the Dragon's raiment."

* * *

After a short moment, Franco had finished his bowl of soup and dressed himself for the winter. The group exited the house where the rest of the party waited. Huynh quickly gathered his men before leaving. As they walked through Tarbes, the Lieutenant sent out a report to his superiors about the very good progress they were making.

"So Lieutenant?" Saito chimed, "What plane do you think it is?"

"Probably an A6M Zero," Huynh answered, "Since Siesta's great-grandfather is the only one to have come from that plane, that excludes the D3A Val dive-bomber and the B5N Kate torpedo bomber. It can't be an Imperial Japanese Army fighter since the story had him flying from a carrier."

Saito was impressed.

"Did you learn that in school?"

"Nah, learnt it for fun," Huynh replied, grinning , "Little boys will always be attracted to any cool looking machine that moves fast and loud."

Saito nodded in agreement.

As they arrived at the edge of the village, they could hear the familiar sound of a snowball fight and laughter. It seemed that the Canadians troops watching the vehicles had gotten bored and decided to have some fun. Some of the children had joined in and were enjoying themselves. Huynh couldn't help but smile a bit before turning more serious and ordering his men to get ready to move.

* * *

After a 15 minute drive, the group had arrived at the entrance of a cave. It was rather quite large for a cave. There was excitement amongst the Academy students and professors. Huynh ordered one of his sections in first with Franco to clear the way of any obstacles. Colbert was particularly enthusiast as he discussed with Leroy and Richer.

"This is rather extraordinary," Colbert said, "I'm looking forward to seeing this airplane. Do you think that I would able to merge its technology with windstones to create an airship?"

Leroy leaned back in thought.

"I'm not sure but it might be possible Jean. This is a bit outside of my field of competence but I am very certain that there are scholars on Earth who would be happy to work with you on it."

Meanwhile, Guiche, not very interested in the discussion, decided to chat with Lieutenant Huynh and Saito.

"Excuse me Lieutenant, but do you know how powerful this wondrous weapon is?" Guiche asked curiously, "Is it as magnificent as its name? A Dragon's Raiment, such wonder."

"It wasn't called a Dragon's Raiment," Huynh answered, "It was called a Mitsubishi A6M Zero fighter. No one uses it anymore since it's been outdated since almost 80 years."

"Zero fighter?" Kirche asked with a smile, "Was it because it couldn't win battles or wars? Or was it because it could only explode?"

Louise tensed up and glared at the Germanian mage. Huynh put a hand on his chin as he tried to remember what he learned about the plane.

"It has something to do with the year it was first made. Something about it being built during Year Zero of the Japanese calendar and something to do with the Japanese emperor." Huynh explained, indirectly reassuring Louise. "Although it did have a reputation for blowing up when it got hit."

"Really? Why did they use it during a war then?"

"It was still a fairly good plane though, one of the best at the beginning of the Second World War," Huynh explained, "It was very agile as a plane and had decent weapons. Unfortunately, it was rather flimsy and we caught on and built better planes that blew them out of the skies."

"So it wasn't a complete failure then?" Kirche pressed on, "Unlike another Zero?" Louise fumed, until Saito put his hands on her shoulders.

"It was a decent plane for its time but it was built during a great war during which every country constantly worked to create more powerful weapons and built as many as they could. Turns out Japan couldn't make a better plane so they kept building the Zeroes and well they lost the war against us."

"But why do you want to recover that weapon then?" Guiche asked, "If it's a bad weapon. There is nothing you can learn from it."

"Well Milord, simple, it's a relic of the past and we like to conserve them so that future generation can learn about them," Huynh answered. "And it wasn't bad at first."

"But your nation still won against them so there is no point for you to preserve it," Guiche continued, "Your enemy was weak and should be forgotten no?"

Huynh looked at him with an angry glint in his eyes.

"Japan was one of the brutal nations that help start one of the most terrible wars of our time. During that war, 60 million people died in horrible ways because of power-hungry leaders. We do not wish to forget that war because we do not want such a terrible war to happen again."

The lieutenant's explanation caught Colbert's attention who had a haunted look on his face.

"How terrible," he sighed, "Tell me that such war happened long ago."

Huynh shook his head.

"It's been only 80 years since the Second World War ended and a century since the First World War ended."

"Didn't you say that your world was at peace?"

"Yes it is. After those wars, the wars got smaller and smaller," Huynh answered before turning back to a stunned Guiche, "Also, Milord, never, ever underestimate an enemy. That's how you get you and your men killed."

Just then, the sound of running boots caught their attention. It was a pair of soldiers who emerged from a cave.

"Sir, we've found a plane. Looks like something from World War 2."

With that, the group dove into the cave. The troops had lit their flashlights inside the dark cave but they began to see light at the end of the tunnel. After a few minutes of walking, they arrived into a large plateau where the other soldiers and Franco awaited them. The trees were devoid of leaves, winter having done its work. A light coat of snow covered the ground. One thing stood out in particular: A large wooden, barn-like structure that was quite weathered but still looked sturdy.

"My family and I have been maintaining this shelter whenever we could," Franco explained, "Inside lies the Dragon's Raiment."

"Can you open it up?" The lieutenant questioned. Franco stepped forward and did just that. The doors creaked opened before light entered the building and filled it.

"Ben tabarnak! It's a fucking Zero alright!" The lieutenant couldn't help but exclaim when the warehouse door opened and the light filtered in.

Louise stiffened for a moment while Saito's eyes lit up when he recognized it too. It was clear- the thing in front of them was a Mitsubishi A6M Zero, one of the most famous Japanese warplanes of WWII. A nimble fighter of the Imperial Air Naval Service that had given the Allies much grief for the first years of the great conflict. Now it was here in Halkagenia.

"Amazing…" The Earth scientists were awed. Saito realized though that this meant something, something he'd suspected back when he'd seen that soup.

"Siesta, you're really part Japanese!" He told her. "Your great-grandfather really was from the same country as me!"

"What?"

"That plane is from my home country!" he continued, "We used it during the last great war we fought. That means your great-grandfather was a pilot from our world."

"He's buried right there." Franco pointed to a tombstone, "He showed us how to engrave these strange symbols on it."

That caught Saito's curiosity as he walked up to the tombstone and began to read the inscription

"Second Lieutenant Sasaki Takeo of the Imperial Japanese Navy, Sleeps in an unknown land. Sir, it's Japanese!"

"I guess that confirms it then." Huynh reached for his radio, then stopped when he realized the signal probably wouldn't get out of here. He'd have to walk back out of the cave, "Impressive spell though. There's not a single speck of rust on this old thing."

"Sir? Can I take a look inside?" Saito had returned inside the improvised hangar, "I think I can check if everything still works."

Huynh nodded.

"Go ahead but don't break anything and press anything. Last thing I need is a 20mm cannon shell blowing someone's head off." They didn't actually know if it had live ammo, but it was possible.

As soon as Saito touched the plane, his runes began to glow. Pushing open the cockpit, he slid in and looked over the controls. Despite having never been on a plane in his life, he could immediately tell what everything did and where everything was located. That was the benefit the runes provided. He could also read what was written on the controls as he began to press buttons and pull levers.

"It still has some fuel left in it!"

"Well then don't touch any-"

The engine roared to life, startling everyone.

" _Calisse de tabarnak_!" Huynh swore as he ran up to the wings and climbed up to the cockpit where Saito was having a blast.

"Cut that engine out _now!_ "

"But-"

"Now," Huynh growled, grabbing the back of Saito's collar. The teen quickly complied as he cut off the engine.

"Now get out of the plane ok?" He kept a tight grip on his collar and no doubt would've hauled him out himself if he didn't comply.

"Yes sir," Saito whined as they got off the plane, "But why?"

"Because starting up an 80 year-old plane without checking if the engine is still safe is a good way of blowing yourself up M. Hiraga," Huynh scolded before realizing something else.

"How the fuck did you start the plane's engine?!"

"W-well, it's because of these runes," Saito stammered, "T-They allow to master any weapon when I touch them."

Huynh's eyes widened. This was something that needed to put on his report.

"I see," he finally said before ordering everyone back outside and contacting Headquarters.

After a few moments of radio discussion, Huynh nodded and turned his attention to the group.

"I've just gotten my orders. My men are to stay here for tonight since we got orders to guard the plane until relieved. The professors are allowed to stay for research purpose while M. Hiraga and Lady Vallière will be invited to say as local liaisons. The other students are free to go however."

"What are you going to do?" Franco demanded, "About the plane?"

"That's for my superiors to decide." Huynh simply told him, "But I can tell you that I have orders to guard the plane and Tarbes for the next few days."

* * *

"WWII Fighter Plane Discovered in Halkegenia!" declared newspaper and online headlines just under a week later.

The Zero had been promptly secured upon its discovery. And once it was deduced that it was not only still fueled and functional but carrying live ammunition, the guard doubled. Siesta's family was questioned about the plane, promised hefty compensation, and then it was quickly gone the next day, carefully maneuvered through the portal and taken to a Canadian Air Force base.

Now they just had to figure out what to do with it. Saito, much to his government's relief, had been nearly forgotten from the time he appeared back on Earth months ago. But this plane and the confirmation that a Imperial Japanese pilot had landed in that world and even planted a family tree had thrust Japan back into the spotlight once again.

The internet was going crazy over the discovery. Conspiracy theories about WWII and secret weapons projects. Even the US and Canada were started to wonder something. Once was a fluke. Twice was a coincidence. But this marked the third instance something from Japan had gone to Halkegenia. The Japanese government realized that too.

But there wasn't any pressure at the moment. For now, both the US and Japan were comparing records and looking for identification on the plane to determine when and where it might've gone down. They eventually tracked down a name and squadron for the pilot- Imperial Japanese Navy Second Lieutenant Takeo Sasaki, disappeared February 4th, 1943 over Northern Japan. They had a name and face, but things only got stranger from there.

The man's family was informed, obviously, but a different family also stepped forward to the Japanese authorities once the news broke. Their great-grandfather had been a Zero pilot in WWII. And in the exact same unit as the deceased. The family gave his war diary to the authorities, and it revealed something astounding. The writing, verified by experts to be decades old, detailed an event on that exact date.

It said he and the missing pilot had flown towards an eclipse that day, and found themselves in a new world. They'd flown back towards the eclipse to get home. He'd made it, but his wingman never did. He'd never revealed this anywhere except in his journal.

Even more record searching went on. An eclipse had indeed occurred on that day, visible from Northern Japan, Alaska, and Far Eastern Russia. And US records revealed that several American aircraft had also mysteriously vanished on that exact same day, presumed lost to hostile action or weather.

The indication was clear- something about a total eclipse linked their worlds together. They weren't sure exactly how, and this information didn't help explain the portal in downtown Montreal, but some of them were convinced it brought them closer to understanding what was going on.

The information was quickly classified, known only to the highest scientific, US, Canadian, and Japanese authorities. This was a development that would be further explored in secret, because if it was true, then it meant a very unpleasant reality.

That any power on Earth could conceivably reach the other world.

* * *

Saito was nervous, more nervous even then when he and Louise had been questioned when they'd gone to Earth. Then again, he hadn't been flown by armed soldiers to a literal prison by the sea then. Colbert and Louise had come with him. The trio were sitting inside a small interrogation room.

A pair of familiar men entered the room, dressed in simple suits and with glasses.

"Good day M. Hiraga," Devers said neutrally, "It's nice to see you again but we wished that it was under friendlier circumstances."

"Eh? What's happening M. Devers?" the teen asked, not liking the choice of words.

"You've had an exciting year, haven't you? Hanging out with Royals and Heads of State and having a major role in one of the biggest events in human history this century," Harper answered seriously, "Something the average man can only dream of, eh?"

"Yes? What does this have to do with anything?"

Devers nodded.

"You have been quite helpful but-"

"What did Saito do wrong?!" Louise almost shouted.

"Please calm down Lady Vallière," Devers ordered, his ears ringing from her shrill voice, "There are some limits to the things you can do though." He finished his sentence.

"I don't understand. What's going on?"

"Those runes of yours," Harper pointed out, "What exactly are they? We've been hearing quite a few things about them."

Saito blanched and couldn't find his voice.

"Do you know anything about them? Are they common?" Devers asked, "More importantly, we feel that they are a danger to us and we wonder why should we keep you around?"

The teen stammered something about not understanding them beyond giving him mastery of any weapon.

"I can explain everything," Colbert spoke up, "M. Devers? M. Harper?"

"Yes?"

"I've been investigating how Saito appeared in our world ever since his arrival," the scholar said, "Including those runes."

"Go on."

"Those runes are unusual for us and it took me much effort to finally find their true nature," Colbert explained, "They mark him as the Gandálfr or the Left Hand of God. A chosen familiar."

"This 'familiar' stuff again, but what does it _mean_?" Harper asked, slightly irritated.

"It means that Saito is capable of mastering anything built as a weapon," Colbert explained, "I am still trying to confirm my theory about why was he summoned and why he got those runes specifically."

"What is this theory?" Devers asked, carefully noting every word.

"That Lady Vallière is a Void Mage. Only a Void Mage can summon another living human as a familiar. The person would be their partner and guardian" He revealed, making Louise gape. "My apologies, Lady Valliere, I was looking for an opportunity to discuss this with you in better circumstances." He told her.

"Void magic?"

"A lost element of magic," Colbert explained, "We believe that Brimir was the last known Void Mage."

"We know that." The men sat back. This was bigger than they'd thought. At most, they figured they'd have to ban Saito from dealing with anymore matters diplomatic, scientific, or military. But if what they'd learned of this world's history was correct, this was a monumental deal.

"What proof do you have of this?" Harper wondered, "You must understand that I have trouble believing this."

"Right now, it is a theory at best," Colbert admitted, "I've discussed this with Old Osmond and I'm afraid we have been unable to go any further with this."

"I see," Devers said, "Is there anyone else that have received word of this theory?"

Colbert shook his head.

"The headmaster only trusted me with this research. For a Void Mage to appear after all this time would be amazing to say the least." He shook his head. "But we have no desire to possibly bring the Church here without solid proof."

"The Church?" Now they were getting off topic.

"Void Mage is associated with our Holy Founder Brimir as he used it to lead our people and establish the four Blessed Realms. If a Void Mage was to appear in any country, the Church would surely seek to bring them under their wing."

"Is that so? Excuse us, please." Both agents suddenly rose from their seats and left the room.

"Louise?" Saito noticed his girlfriend looking pale.

"I'm a Void Mage?" she muttered to herself, "That can't be right? I'm just the Zero."

"Louise," the teen said with more firmness in his voice as he wrapped his arms around her small frame, "I told you you were powerful."

"The church'll take me away," she muttered before Saito kissed her.

"I won't let them take you away. You'll be safe with me." He assured. Colbert watched the two, worrying about what we might just have done.

Outside, a very different conversation was taking place.

"This is well above a fucking security risk." Devers groaned.

"Indeed, we can't detain her and M. Hiraga," Harper stated, "We can't be sure if the Princess would shield her or send her to the Church. We can at least tell our superiors."

"Yes, this is above our paygrade."

" What about that Saito kid?" Harper wondered. "The girl's up in the air, but that kid is definitely not normal."

"We'll keep him away from any important business, especially anything weapon-related, at least for now. I think we oughta open a full case file on those two though. The kid's a cultural liaison and the girl is close to the Princess; they're important to the effort."

"We have to be careful then."

"Right…" He looked back towards the door to the interrogation room. "No point delaying- let's go tell the brass and see what they want to do."

It was another hour later that Saito, Colbert, and Louise, who still seemed to be in a trace, were let out of the interrogation room by other staff and taken to have some food. Louise barely touched hers despite her boyfriend's prodding. If was after that meal that Devers and Harper returned to them. Both men were wearing packs.

"M. Higara." Dever's voice was cold, factual. "As of 30 minutes ago, you've been blacklisted. You are not permitted to communicate or visit with any diplomatic or military personnel or installations under any circumstances, even as guests of the Princess. You can, however, continue acting as a cultural liaison in scientific matters that do not concern weapons. Do you understand?" He asked. Saito blanched back at the man.

"B-but why?" He stuttered.

"To put it honestly: you're dangerous and valuable at the same time. We don't know exactly how those runes affect you beyond turning you into a walking weapon. Reconquista would want to get their hands on you and use your powers against us M. Hiraga, " Harper explained calmly. "And since we've been told you and your girlfriend are fond of having little adventures...we'll be coming back to watch you."

"M. Devers, M. Harper." Colbert stood up, sounding concerned. "This is-"

"Sit down, Professor." Devers raised a hand. "We're coming to keep an eye on you and the headmaster too." Now Colbert looked alarmed. "We need to see all the information you've gathered on these runes."

"Officially, we're here to keep an eye on you against any hostile threats." Harper came up, "Given that Lady Vallière is a close friend of her Highness with potent magical abilities, M. Hiraga a highly skilled liaison person and M. Colbert a scientific genius, they require protection from Reconquista. This is what you'll tell anyone who asks about us, understand?"

"At the same time," Devers added in, "It'll be a bonus for your social standing Lady Vallière, "You'll be under guard because of how valuable you are to our efforts."

They were trying to sugarcoat it, but Saito could see the writing of the wall and what was really going on- they were going to be prisoners.

* * *

Military efficiency was a beautiful thing. In the two months since the base attack, with an increase in troops numbers and resource dedication, the American and Canadian Embassies had been finished and open, operating efficiently for most of that time now. They still had reduced functions- there was no immigration department, for example, but there was still a lot of work to be done.

Sitting in the manor parlor again though, Ambassador Fitzgerald had to admit he might have liked the cozy appeal compared to the office setting of the Embassy. With the Embassies opening on the same day, the US and Canada had vacated the manor and passed it on for someone else to use- the British diplomatic party. All three Anglo nations had business with the Princess that day, and their Ambassadors were just having a meeting before heading out. Their host was just telling them about what the public opinion was like in the UK at that moment.

"If war should break out tomorrow, I'm fairly certain thousands of Northern Irish volunteers would step forward to enlist," Lord Richardson, the British Ambassador, explained as he sipped his tea, "To be honest, I think the Irish Defense Force would demand the UN to allow them to join us."

"Your people certainly seem up in arms over this Cromwell."

"Well, Ambassador, let me put it like this: if you had a chance to go back in time and fight against Hitler, would you?"

"You have me there."

The men chuckled lightly before the door opened, revealing one of the staff members.

"Ambassadors, your transports to the Palace are ready." They were told.

"Right, let's get to it, shall we?"

With that, the ambassadors were off by armoured limousine and surrounded by their escorts teams. By now, the locals barely glanced up at the strange carriages when they made their way to the palace.

The arrived, the usual formalities were exchanged, and all three men found themselves having an audience with Princess Henrietta.

"Greetings, your Highness. We hope you are doing well today." Fitzgerald greeted.

"I am very well. Splendid, even." the young royal answered, "I am quite happy to discuss with you about M. Trudeau and M. Trump's upcoming visit." It had taken a lot of security reviewing, but both leaders had agreed to visit Tristain for three days to see how things were, reassure Tristain, and make their mark in history of the first leaders from Earth to visit Halkegenia. This was the last meeting to confirm things. "It will be a joyful occasion as I will be coronated as Queen of Tristain at the same time."

"Really, your highness?" Ambroise was surprised. "That is great news. You have our congratulations." Henrietta nodded.

"Thank you. It's been decided I will be coronated on my 18th Birthday. As it turns out, that falls in the same week we've been discussing for your leaders to visit."

"That is quite a coincidence." Ambroise remarked while all three men turned over a certain fact in their head- 18th Birthday. This whole time, Henrietta had been a teenager. They'd assumed as much, but they'd thought her closer to 20.

"M. Trump and M. Trudeau are invited to attend, if they wish." Henrietta offered.

"May I ask a small favour of you, your Highness?" Richardson asked politely. The princess nodded.

"Yes Lord Richardson?"

"Would it be possible for members of the British Royal Family to attend this ceremony?" he asked respectfully. The British had been considering such a visit anyway to build up relations; in fact, it was the point of him accompanying the American and Canadian ambassadors this day, but this was a great opportunity for a media coup.

"It would be acceptable of course," Henrietta answered, "They are welcome to come. Will Queen Elizabeth be able to attend? Archduchess Marianne has wished to meet her."

Richardson shook his head.

"I must apologize on her Majesty's behalf but her health is quite fragile and her personal doctor has stated that she cannot leave her palace."

"I understand."

There was a slight disappointment in Henrietta's voice.

"But it would perhaps possible for the Princes to attend."

"They shall be welcomed then."

Ambroise cleared his throat.

"There is another matter we wish to address with you," he said, "Do you remember our media?"

Henrietta nodded. They had discussed it as one of the factors while Trump and Trudeau visited.

"We'll allow them to enter the country as well."

"Will they be allowed to cover the coronation?" Fitzgerald asked, "It would be something that everyone on Earth would want to watch."

"They might even find a way to show it to all your citizens who can't attend." Richardson proposed. "I'm sure they would be thrilled to see it."

Henrietta nodded.

"The coronations have always been only open to the nobility," she said, "If your media is able to do such a thing, it would be indeed thrilling for the commoners who cannot attend it."

"Very well then," Fitzgerald said, "We'll discuss with our leaders about the coronation. I believe that they would wish to be present. On which day of our previously discussed plans is the coronation happening?"

"It'll will be on the last day of their visit." Henrietta informed them. That was good; that could be easily worked with.

"Splendid," Ambroise said, "Let us review the schedule before we discuss with our leaders. The first day was reserved for a tour of the country, and remaining two were to discuss the progress and relations between our nations."

"Assuming the invitation to the coronation is accepted, our leaders will arrive in separate convoys," Fitzgerald explained, "They'll visit the Academy very quickly before heading to the Royal Palace. Afterall, they've wished to meet your Regency Council."

"My council looks forward to meeting them as well," Henrietta replied before turning to the British ambassador, "What about your princes Lord Richardson?"

"I believe that they will arrive on the day of the Coronation," Richardson answered, "The conference between your nation, Canada, us and the United States is an important affair and they do not desire to interrupt it, your Highness. They are also quite comfortable in delegating these matters to me."

"I see. Thank you." Henrietta nodded.

"As for the meetings themselves, the main topic of these meetings will be the economic and security situation." Fitzgerald brought it back to topic. "Unless there is another matter you think important to discuss?" He asked Henrietta respectfully.

"Perhaps educational matters?" she suggested, "I've heard rather interesting tales about your people's education systems from M. Hiraga."

"Oh?"

"Yes, I wish to expand Tristain's schools," Henrietta suggested, "To help the commoners learn to read since I understand that your nations prosper because of literacy."

"Your Highness, that can be something that can be discussed," Ambroise said, "Our leaders will be quite happy to hear of your proposal."

"The talks are still being held at the Royal Palace?" Fitzgerald asked. Henrietta nodded.

"Yes, since the Palace is the most secure place in Tristain," Henrietta answered, "With the additional funds we've gotten in the past months, our mages and stonecutters have been working to reinforce the Palace's warding."

"Splendid."

"The Palace's guest quarters are also available to your leaders," Henrietta added, "Should the need be."

The ambassadors shook their heads politely.

"Our embassies are fully operational and are more adapted to answer our leaders' needs and requirements," Fitzgerald explained, "But we appreciate the invitation and should an emergency occur, we'll be using your Palace."

"Very well," Henrietta said, "Is the banquet still going as planned?"

"We have no objections," Ambroise answered confidently, "I believe that M. Trudeau would be pleased to be treated to hospitality."

"The same goes for M. Trump."

"Wonderful," Henrietta answered, clasping her hands, "I believe that we have discussed all that we need to for the visit."

"Very well, we shall contact our leaders."

* * *

"Thank you Ambassador Ambroise and good day to you as well," Trudeau said as he hung up the phone. He was certain that Trump was doing the same right now and had taken the same decision in accepting the invitation to the coronation. The Prime Minister was taken aback when he found out that Henrietta was only a minor during her visits to Earth. With a bit more experience, the soon-to be queen would be a very skilled leader to say the least.

Trudeau had accepted for the sake of PR and alliance building but it was also because of it being a historical moment for both worlds. Normally, this was the type of thing you send a representative to. But, since the opportunity was there because of the talks, was there really any harm in it?

At least the opposition couldn't claim Trudeau and the Liberals weren't doing enough to build good relationships with Tristain.

* * *

"Of course I'm coming!" Trump exclaimed, "Tell the Princess to keep a good seat for me!"

"Yes M. President," Ambassador Fitzgerald answered back. Both men were on the phone.

"You have anything else for me?"

"No sir, I believe that is all."

"Wonderful and have a nice day Ambassador."

The ambassador said his goodbyes before both men hung out.

Trump massaged his temples. Despite the unusual nature of the ceremony he was being invited to, he couldn't help but accept the invitation. It'd be a refreshing change from Earth's international politics to say the least. Especially after the fiasco at the UN.

Not to mention that he'd be the first American President to go to that world. And witness such a ceremony, something that would be a part of his legacy; he could just see the media trying to rewrite his accomplishments after he got out of office.

But they wouldn't be able to rewrite this!

* * *

Joint Base Clément-sur-Mer had opened for full operation just a few weeks after the attack. Two months after the same attack, it had officially accepted the first group of Tristainian sailors to be retrained. Due to the Navy's small size though, they couldn't retrain a significant number of sailors without severely impacting its ability to operate. So they were training one ship crew at a time

Training entailed building an _'esprit de corps'_ amongst the Tristanians. An uphill battle given how Tristain's society was split cleanly between mundane commoners and magical aristocrats. But Earth nations based on similar social structures had raised well motivated armies, so they knew it was possible. There was heavy cooperation with Tristainian historians for the purpose, and even Henrietta had visited the class during the first few days to encourage them.

The horror of the boarding action reported by the observers had also led to a basic but universal first aid course for all sailors. Sure, water mages could heal wounds, so well it was just short of a miracle by Earth standards. But there was at most a single water mage on a ship, if even that. So giving the basic sailor medical ability would severely cut down on casualties regardless.

There were also ongoing experiments with Tristain's meager selection of smiths and tanners to try and create a standard armor that was comfortable and flexible, but gave reasonable protection to the torso from blades, shrapnel and maybe even black powder guns.

The Tristainians were still using the same weapons as they had before, but they'd be smarter, more motivated, and better armored. Though hopefully not the case, only the possible war on the horizon would tell how that served them against a numerically superior foe.

On the North American side of things, the people at the base had changed as well. The US Navy Seabees had been sent home, and a small contingent of Canadian Military Engineers stayed behind in case they were needed. The military police from both nations remained, now backed up by three infantry companies- two Canadian, one American. The base had bulked up its anti-air capabilities as well in the form of C-RAM batteries and several Avenger anti-air missile systems.

But there was one big change to the base itself. A new fenced in area had been built southeast of the existing complex and connected via a road: an airstrip. A concrete runway over a mile long, surrounded by empty hangers and a single barracks that housed the only residents- the United States Air Force Security Forces detachment sent to protect it.

There'd been a shift in responsibilities as it was realized that aerial warfare played an important role in this world and it would be an important asset if Albion decided to attack. The US and Canada had sent members of their Air Forces to take over airspace monitoring duties in the region. And both sides had mutually agreed to build a relatively cheap airstrip at Clément-sur-Mer and at the outpost at the portal capable of housing tactical fighters from either nation. They hadn't sent any aircraft over yet and there were no immediate plans save for emergencies. But it was there just in case.

* * *

The logistics and planning of a civil war were very different from those of invading another country, Cromwell knew. The differences had been hammering him the last two months as the religious armies of Albion prepared to gain their foothold on the Halkegenian mainland.

The objectives were straight forward and they only had three targets- the Capital, that outworlder base on the coast, and the Tristain Academy of Magic and the portal that lied right outside its gates. Of those, he expected the second would be the most difficult. But he had faith in his armies.

The logistics were the difficult part- getting his armies down to Tristain. Since their Captains had been chosen by the House of Tudor and thus were extremely loyal, every ship of the line that Albion had had stayed loyalist during the war and ended up destroyed, all except for one. That would be the flagship for the invasion and lead the attack on the Capital along with all the other large ships they had. Most of their fleet was only frigates. It was because of their speed that they'd be carrying out the attack on the Academy and the Gate, the furthest target inland.

The outworlder's base required separate planning. Cromwell was placing his hopes in the hands of the cannons- he intended to deploy all of the Army's massive siege cannons. They were the mightiest guns in all of Halkegenia; nothing outranged them. If the outworlders didn't want to surrender, they could die in their base. Getting them to ground without the airships carrying them getting destroyed would be a problem though; the outworlder's airships were tiny but very powerful.

So Cromwell had settled on a very expensive gamble- Albion's dragon riders. He'd put together a collection of wind dragons and powerful mages for the express purpose of dueling with the outworlder's nimble airships. If they could distract them, or with Brimir's blessings even kill them, the siege guns and other troops could land safety. It was a gamble, but it was his only option.

The ships were in dock. Some 70,000 battle hardened and fanatical troops were ready to embark. At most, the invasion of Tristain was only a week away.

And then Sheffield appeared in his quarters with news that upset all that.

"Now of all times?" Cromwell fumed at the news of the coronation. Why couldn't Tristain just roll over and give in to his wisdom and Brimir's plans? "It does that matter if they'll coronate her in two months." He decided. "Tristain will be under our thumb by then."

"But Lord-Protector!" Sheffield protested. "Do you not see the opportunity this presents for us?" An agitated Cromwell waved impatiently for her to spit it out. "The leaders from that world will be there too. Imagine- we can kill them and Henrietta at the same time. Nothing will break the morale of Tristain like their ruler being killed on the day of her coronation. And the outworlder nations will be in chaos if their leaders are killed, so much so that they couldn't possibly come to Tristain's aid."

"So?" Cromwell sounded adamant. "We need to make a move _now_. The invasion will succeed anyway. I don't see a reason to wait."

"The ceremony is in two months." She kept insisting. "That is more time for us to build ships. To train more troops."

Cromwell looked out his window in thought. The woman had a point. These two months could allow him to stockpile more weapons and supplies, and add thousands of more men to his armies. It would also mean more time to have new officers; the purges had left them low.

He had enough to defeat Tristain now, no doubt, but what about the other kingdoms? How did he know Germania wouldn't swoop in after the invasion and fight his tired and weakened armies? Or that the foolish Pope in Romalia wouldn't call for a crusade against him? If he spend more time training more troops, not only would he reap the benefits Sheffield was talking about, but he'd have reinforcements to bring in to guard against those possibilities.

"Two months?" He asked.

"Yes, Lord-Protector."

"Hmm." Cromwell pondered. This was not an easy decision to make. He was not a man used to failures, so the constant incidents in Tristain were making him irrational. But he was cunning and smart enough to recognize advantages and opportunities when they were present.

He eventually decided the opportunity then was far better then the opportunity now. "Sheffield." He turned to the woman. "I want the best agents we have for this plot, anyone with experience. Whatever they are doing, have them come here immediately. I want them absolutely safe until they are needed." He'd have to get word to his top spy immediately- his help would be crucial to get them close enough to carry out the deed.

"Of course. How many do you intend to send, Lord-Protector?" She questioned.

"We cannot underestimate them this time. We can't afford to have this fail. We'll send dozens." An espionage mission of that scale had never been attempted in all of Halkegenia's history; Cromwell was truly talking madness "If they die, so be it. It will be a small price to pay to see the Founder's intentions carried out." He knew they would gladly if need be; they were just as dedicated to the cause as he was, and willing to sacrifice just as much.

"Their sacrifice will not be in vain," Sheffield replied.

"No, for it is the Founder's will."

Sheffield agreed.

* * *

The next two months saw some new things and more of the same. Merchandises and supplies ferried into Tristain as well as towards Earth. Germania's merchants had also began trading some of their wares, at first to private collectors on earth eager for some authentic period weapons and armor. In turn, Earth-made clothes and furniture were being carted back into Germania. Tristain was enjoying a boon from some new but low tariffs.

The troops at the portal stood watch every day; the checkpoint had expanded a lot to deal with the increased traffic and surrounding outpost. It was just short of an actual base by now. Helipads had even been built. Training proceeded as usual at the joint base for the Tristainian Navy.

The first crew graduated after a month and a half there. Henrietta and her council were in attendance. The entire crew of one of their frigates, noble and commoner together nearly indistinguishable, standing proud and tall in a new leather battle armor emblazoned with the Tristainian crest. They looked proud, they looked smart, and they looked powerful.

Another crew was rotated in to go through the same process. Henrietta and her council were convinced that they'd have, if not the biggest navy in Halkegenia, certainly the best trained.

Siesta and her family had been enjoying their new found wealth. Her father showed some bitterness still over the Zero being taken, but that wound was healing as there were talks of getting him into contact with his family in the other world.

And at Joint Base Clément-sur-Mer, the North American intelligence agencies, now joined by their contemporaries from the British MI6, kept their eyes on the rogue kingdom in the sky. The constant troop movements reported by agent on the ground weren't unusual; they were probably marching them all over the country to keep people from dissenting. But they were all very puzzled at the dozens of Albionian warships that had been tethered at dock for months now...

* * *

After the unpleasantness of his questioning, Saito got to return to his semi-exciting life of self-study and acting as a cultural liaison, although now with the uncomfortable knowledge that he was being watched. He got a big surprise one day when he and Louise had been summoned to meet a new scientific party arriving from Earth at the Academy.

"Hey Saito!" his brother exclaimed, "You and my sister-in-law doing well?"

Louise and Saito immediately flushed red.

"W-wh-at are you doing here Hayate?" Saito croaked out.

"W-we're not married yet," Louise stammered.

"Isn't it clear? I'm here to study how magical healing works," he exclaimed, "And besides, you two look at each other like mom and dad do."

"So this is your little brother that got sucked in some portal?" another one of the students asked with curiosity.

"Wasn't that supposed to be super confidential information?" Saito asked, slightly unimpressed that his brother had blabbed about it to his colleagues.

"Well, considering that we were gonna meet you, I got told that I could tell my fellow team about your little stunt to get a cute girlfriend." Hayate snickered, "But it's good to see you again little bro."

"You too man," Saito answered with a grin, "Are you guys busy today?"

"We're supposed to visit the Academy where we'll stay for a few days," Hayate explained.

"I know, I'm the tour guide and Louise is helping me with it," Saito bragged, "So I think I can introduce you to my friends here."

"Sounds like a plan. Think they can show us some magic?"

"You betcha!"

* * *

Today however was a completely different day. It was the beginning of the state visit by Trudeau and Trump to Tristain. The past weeks had been busy. Specially chosen media teams had arrived during those weeks and began to set up their equipment to cover Henrietta's coronation and the Earth leaders' visit. Security teams had also arrived and were collaborating with the Tristainian authorities to ensure that everything would go smoothly. Men from the Secret Service, JTF-2, and Scotland Yard had all set up their security in advance.

It would go far beyond armed bodyguards accompanying the Heads of State and Royals at all times. There would be patrols of the grounds. There would be snipers, both modern and of old, watching from above. Multiple rapid extraction plans for both the ground and the air. The Secret Service had even brought an unarmed drone for an above view of the areas where they'd would be going.

The first day was the most intense for security as they arrived separately through the portal in their own convoys. Princess Henrietta was there to meet them all and take them on a tour of the Tristain Academy of Magic, the Kingdom's crown jewel. She was waiting for them at the Academy gate. Old Osmond was there as well, given his role as headmaster.

The first scheduled to arrive was Prime Minister Trudeau. A convoy of black SUV's and a limousine appeared from the portal. Small Canadian flags hung from little poles of the front of the limousine as it drove up to the Academy's gate. It was a sunny day where what little snow remained melted.

The convoy came to a halt as men in dark suits disembarked from the SUV's and moved into position alongside the limousine. One opened the door, revealing the Canadian Prime Minister, dressed in a grey-blue business suit. Reporters stood nearby, filming and photographing the scene.

"Hello your Highness," he greeted as he bowed politely in front of Henrietta.

"Greetings Prime Minister Trudeau and welcome to the Tristain Academy of Magic," the princess replied before introducing him to Old Osmond.

"Greetings Prime Minister," Old Osmond said with a bow, "I am Old Osmond, Headmaster of the Tristain Academy of Magic. I hope you will enjoy your stay here."

"Thank you very much for your welcome. I was looking quite forward to finally visiting Tristain," he answered, looking around. The Academy looked like a small castle with a great tower in the center, "I can understand why you describe your Academy as being the crown jewel of your kingdom. It is a magnificent institution Headmaster Osmond. They remind me of the universities I've attended."

"Thank you, I've worked diligently for many years to ensure that our pupils have the finest education in all of Halkegenia."

Trudeau looked quite impressed.

"I am quite happy to see that you devote such effort to education, your Highness, Headmaster Osmond," he praised.

"Is it true that you were a teacher before becoming Prime Minister?" Osmond asked. Trudeau nodded.

"Yes, I taught English and Drama. They were some of the finest years of my life."

The sound of more cars arriving caught their attention.

"That must be President Trump."

A larger convoy was making its way from the portal, sporting the American flag. Very soon, it had come to a halt and Trump emerged from his limousine.

"Hello your Highness, M. Trudeau, Mr. Osmond" he greeted, "Fine weather you got here. Better than in Canada right now."

"Indeed M. Trump," Trudeau cooly replied, "The cold wasn't too hard for you."

"Not at all. Let's get this visit started then," Trump said as Henrietta and Osmond led them into the Academy's gates. As they entered the courtyard, they saw many of the students amassed behind designated areas.

* * *

"So that's their leaders?" Guiche whispered to Montmorency, "Father told me they dressed simply but I didn't expect to be that simple."

Both were standing at the front of the crowd that watched the Earth leaders' arrival. Next to them were Kirche, Tabitha and Malicorne. The blonde girl merely shook her head.

"That blond man is Donald Trump right?" she asked, disdain in her her voice.

"I believe so," Guiche said, having remembered how the Earth soldiers described the man, "His demeanour is rather brutish."

Tabitha lifted her eyes from the book she was reading.

"Powerful," she said monotonically as she watched the two men walking by them with their entourage.

"Father and Mother were quite happy to meet with their ambassadors," Kirche pointed out proudly, "They've sold a suit of armour and a sword to one of them."

"Oh?" Malicorne asked

"But of course, Germanian metalworkers and smiths are the finest ones on the Continent, something that these Outworlders found out quickly," Kirche boasted, "Father said that he has never met such a shrewd negotiator when he haggled with Ambassador Schmidt."

Guiche and Montmorency both scowled, annoyed by her bragging.

"Of course, Father also said that the Emperor was quite pleased in discussing with them. Their lack of… stuffiness was refreshing for his Imperial Majesty."

They noticed that the group of leaders had stopped. Trudeau was now waving at them while flashing a bright smile.

In another part of the courtyard were the servants and cooks. Their conversations were different from the mages.

"What a charming man," Marteau commented as he waved back at Trudeau

"Is it true that these men are nothing but commoners chosen by their people to lead them?" an old maid asked as she watched Trudeau waving at them, "They look quite wealthy though."

"Yes, that's what their soldiers told me," Siesta answered as she looked at them. The old maid still had trouble believing what the young woman told her.

"Hmmph, they must be better than the lazy nobles around here," Chef Marteau scoffed with a grin, "Probably a lot smarter too."

"How was it with their soldiers?" the old maid asked, "If these men are as wealthy and powerful as the stories tell, their warriors must be arrogant."

Siesta shook her head.

"They were quite pleasant people. Very humble and helpful in fact."

"Oh really?"

The young maid nodded.

"Yes, they had to stay in Tarbes for a few days so their leaders had them help us around the village."

"That was quite nice of them."

"Yes. They also paid us fairly for our family heirloom," Siesta added, smiling, "Father says that we'll never fear being hungry again. They also promised us that they'll find a way for us to meet our family on Earth."

"What an impressive story," Marteau remarked, "I'm looking to trying out those recipes that you learned from Sir Brisebois as well."

"He's just a corporal, Chef Marteau," Siesta giggled, "He hates being called sir. Besides, you'll be able to meet him in a few days."

"Oh?"

"His superiors are arranging something for us and the other soldiers to watch the Princess's coronation as it's happening even if we are at the Academy."

"Amazing, can't say I'm not looking forward to seeing that," Marteau said.

* * *

The door to the Regency Council's meeting room swung open. Henrietta's council had gathered for one of its last times. It was a meeting they anticipated for a long time.

' _So we'll finally meet our allies' leaders for the first time,_ ' Richemont thought grumpily as he saw Agnes and the Musketeers leading Henrietta. After them, men dressed in dark suits with dark glasses entered the room as they surrounded a dark haired man with blue eyes followed by another group of guards surrounding an older, light haired man. Justin Trudeau and Donald Trump had finally arrived before the Regency Council.

"M. Trump, M. Trudeau, I'd like to introduce you to my Regency Council," Henrietta said.

"Thank you your Highness."

"Welcome to Tristania," Archduchess Marianne said.

"Thank you your Majesty," Trump answered politely, "You've raised a mighty leader here. I can see great things for Princess Henrietta."

"Thank you M. Trump. I am very proud of her."

"I can understand why," Trudeau added, "You must be First Minister Delage?"

The man nodded

"Greetings M. Trudeau, M. Trump," Delage greeted, "It is an honor to finally meet you in person."

"The pleasure is all ours," Trudeau answered, "Isn't it M. Trump?"

Trump nodded.

"Yes, I was looking forward to meet all of you in person," he said.

"You must be his Eminence," Trudeau said as he saw Cardinal Mazarin's robes, "I am quite pleased to meet a man of good faith."

"Thank you Prime Minister Trudeau," Mazarin answered humbly, "I merely seek to guide my people to salvation as is expected from a servant of the Founder's Church."

"Such wisdom. I can understand why you and your fellow council members were chosen to be on her Highness's regency council. You have taught her well and forged her into a good leader."

"We merely seeked to serve our Kingdom," Delage replied, "It was our duty."

"One you have accomplished very well."

"Which one of you is Minister Richemont by the way?" Trump asked brusquely.

The minister scowled at the American President.

"I am Justice Minister Richemont."

"You still in charge of security?"

"Yes," Richemont answered through clenched teeth.

"I hope your security forces are in better shape now," Trump said sharply, "I don't want a repeat of the Consulate incident because your people were being lazy. I hope you're glad we helped you catch those spies. You should also be thankful that her Highness is merciful because if something like that happened under my watch, you'd be looking for a new job."

"M. Trump, my men have worked hard to root out any traitors. You do not to fear any danger." Richemont shot back, anger obvious in his voice.

"I hope so."

"Now gentlemen," Trudeau cut in, trying to diffuse the tension, "I have faith that Minister Richemont has done all that is necessary to ensure that everything will safe but I understand M. Trump's concerns."

"I suppose you're right," Trump grumbled.

"I can understand your worries M. Trump," Richemont replied, "I hope that the security efforts that I've put into place in the past months will reassure you. I must also apologize for my outburst."

This seemed calm the American president.

"At least we can agree on proper security Minister."

The minister nodded in agreement.

"I believe that our time here is up," Trudeau said, "We must return to our embassies now."

"Thank you for your time," Trump said as he and Trudeau were exiting the council room.

"Yes M. Trump," Richemont replied, "It was quite a short but pleasant meeting. It's a shame that this may be the only one we'll ever have given that our council to be dissolved after the coronation."

"I hope that we'll meet again then, Minister Richemont," Trudeau answered back, "Otherwise, good luck in your future endeavours."

* * *

"Are you sure you really want to wear that?" Hayate asked as he looked at Saito's current dress, "It doesn't look very comfortable."

Said younger brother was dressed in clothing that looked right out of a history book about the 1600's. A blue doublet with light grey pants complemented by black shoes held together with clasps and a large black hat with white feathers coming out of it. The two brothers were inside one of the Palace's guest suite, this one having being set aside for the Vallières and the Hiraga siblings. Today was the big day for Henrietta.

"It's not that bad," Saito said as he squirmed around, "I'm not wearing that weird neck flower thing."

Hayate scoffed.

"Good thing, I don't feel like giving you first aid if you choke while wearing that thing. Those things were dangerous."

"At least Pinkie's parents will be happy to see you putting in effort for your clothes," Derflinger spoke up.

"Huh, you really are putting all the stops for your girlfriend aren't you little bro?" Hayate remarked proudly, "Derf, bro, I think they'll be happy to see Saito cleaning himself up for their daughter. "

Hayate and Derflinger had gotten quite well after the older Hiraga got over the shock of meeting a talking sword.

"It's the least I could do so they'll like me," Saito stated dryly, "Louise is worth it after all."

Hayate chuckled as he leaned himself on one of the walls.

"You still have to make it up for that time you almost got in a duel with your future sister-in-law."

Saito glared.

"She deserved it!"

"Still not a good idea to draw a sword on your in-laws… even if they're awful people," Hayate remarked, half-scolding before changing to a more somber tone, "You've changed alot since you've been here little bro."

There was pride in the older sibling's voice.

"I never thought that my little perverted otaku of a brother would become who is right now." he said as he made his way to Saito, "This world really made you into someone new."

"Thanks man."

"No worries little bro," Hayate said as he ruffled his brother's hair before glancing outside. The sun glowed brightly and there wasn't a single cloud in the sky. A knock on the door caught their attention.

"You can come in!" Hayate called out as the door opened. It was Louise. The young mage was dressed in a frilly pink dress and had arranged her hair into an elaborate bun. She looked regal.

"Louise, you're beautiful," Saito stammered out as he walked up to the blushing mage.

"S-saito, please."

"Ahem."

The two teenagers looked over at Hayate, who was grinning.

"I'm happy that you two lovebirds are happy to see each other but I think we need to get going."

As they exited, Hayate was at the back of the group while Saito had taken the lead with Louise at his side

"Lady Vallière?" the medical student spoke up, catching Louise's attention.

"Yes?"

"Thank you for being in Saito's life," he said with a smile.

The pinkette stammered and blushed a bit before settling on an answer that she muttered.

"I didn't have a choice. He just appeared in mine."

Hayate smiled. Tsunderes.

"Are you three ready to go?" A sharp voice cut in, snapping them from their reveries. It was one of the agents assigned to their 'security' detail.

"Yes sir." Saito answered flatly.

"Follow me then."

* * *

It was a grand day in Tristania. The streets were filled with throngs of people celebrating the soon-to-be coronated Queen Henrietta I. Cheering could be heard everywhere in the capital as the Tristainians watched on great screens every moment of the Coronation. These great screens had been set up by the otherworlders so that the commoners could witnessed this new moment . Banners were waved and hung from many buildings.

The Great Cathedral of Tristainia was the center of these great celebrations. The oldest noble families had come from all over Tristain to witness the coronation. Carriages and various steeds dropped off the most celebrated lords and ladies of the kingdom as they entered the second greatest building in the capital dressed in their finest garb.

Names like Vallière, Grammond could be heard as they were greeted at the Great Cathedral's entrance by squires and clergymen. An impressive security force was also in place. Members of the Secret Service, Scotland Yard and the RCMP were patrolling amongst the crowd while elite sniper teams from Britain, Canada and the United States had taken up position in various vantage points. Supported in full by the Musketeers.

A long convoy of SUV's and limousines had arrived carrying the delegations from the Anglo trifecta.

One by one, the limousines unloaded their important passengers. Trump and Trudeau but also Princes William and Harry of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. Cameras filmed this historical moment as these important people walked into the crowd. A podium had been arranged so that the North American leaders could speak before the crowd and media. Their guards guided them towards the podium.

Trump was the first to speak.

"I am very honored to be here as the President of the United States. This is a historical moment for both America and Tristain. I am very happy to be here to celebrate the coronation of a fine and sensible young woman that knows how to choose proper allies. America is more than happy to work with the people of Tristain as they have proven to be smart, hardworking people that understand well what it means to do right. Our talks the past two days have been very conclusive, proving again that America has chosen good allies here in Halkeginia. I wish that her Highness, Princess Henrietta, will have a long and wealthy rule."

He stepped down to allow Trudeau to speak.

"I am very pleased that Canada and her allies are present on this historical day. Not only are we taking part in the coronation of a new ruler, we are also seeing a talented young woman taking power for the first time in Halkegenia. I have faith that Princess Henrietta will set an example for leaders in both of our worlds in terms of honesty, integrity and kindness. I believe that she will lead Tristain into prosperity and freedom. As Prime Minister of Canada, I share, on behalf of all Canadians, a belief that her rule to be a long and successful one and a desire that our nations shall forever be bound in friendship and trust."

Once the speeches were done, two figures dressed in business suits were addressing the media with their guards nearby. One was bald while the other had a well groomed beard. It was Prince William, Duke of Cambridge and Prince Harry, Duke of Sussex.

"It is a great honour for both of us to be here," Prince William declared to the cameras, "It is out of goodwill that we have both accepted to be present for Princess Henrietta's coronation and as part of the desire of the House of Windsor to extend our friendship to the House of Tristania."

"We look forward to this ceremony," Prince Harry added, "and we wish her good fortune and a long rule as Queen of Tristain."

"Your Royal Highnesses! Is it true the British Government is looking to open the same relations as the US and Canada?" A reporter asked.

Prince William nodded and answered.

"We are working towards building a friendship between our realms. That is why we have agreed to be present to the coronation as part of those efforts. If you'll excuse us, the ceremony is about to start." And with that, the two British Royals untangled themselves from the press before entering the Cathedral. As they did so, a herald announced their presence.

"Introducing His Royal Highness, The Duke of Cambridge and His Royal Highness, The Duke of Sussex."

* * *

The smell of food hung through the air in the Academy's largest courtyard. Canadian and American troops had set up a small dining area while technical staff had installed large screens for the staff and students to watch the Coronation. It had been a busy two days for the men but it was worth it. The troops were told that they could relax a bit and mingle with the locals.

Classes for the day were cancelled in celebration. The Academy grounds for the day were open to everyone, commoner, noble, and outworlder, to watch. MP's and Royal troops provided security.

The Canadians and Americans even set up barbecues with some of the troops having a blast at making food. The Academy's kitchen staff had also joined them and were working together to cook some food.

"Not a bad day eh man?" Huynh said as he chatted an American officer, a fellow infantry lieutenant. He met the man during their mission a few days prior and struck a friendship with him.

"I'll say," Lieutenant Trombley said. He was from Louisiana, the last vestige of French culture in the United States. His southern drawl was quite evident when he talked, "Not a single cloud in the skies."

"Your boys enjoying the sights?"

"Hell yeah, this place is like French Hogwarts," the American chuckled, "Except it looks they know how to cook."

"That would be Beaubatons," Huynh said much to the confusion of his friend, "It's the French school in Harry Potter. Literally just a school of hot French girls."

"Nerd."

"Eh, it was a great book series," the Canadian shrugged nonchalantly, "Movies messed everything up after the 5th one."

"Whatever," Trombley replied as he looked at the crowd of students, soldiers and staff, "You guys got any issues with the locals?"

"Besides dealing with stuck up brats?" Huynh replied with his colleague nodding, "Not really."

"Can you believe how these kids are snooty? One of them tried to show off how important his old man was."

Huynh had a feeling he knew who Trombley was talking about.

"Lemme guess, some blond wimp with a rose and a frilly white shirt?"

"Yeah, said his name Guy-Gay something de Grammond."

"Met him all right," Huynh scoffed, "Guy likes to brag about his old man being an important general."

"Hope his dad isn't that bad then. A kid like that being a general would be a mess to deal with," Trombley said, "How did you meet him though?"

"It's a long story, you mind?"

"Nah."

Meanwhile, in other section of the courtyard, another group had formed up. Some Canadian and American soldiers were sitting at a table with some of the commoners that worked at the Academy.

"I gotta admit," Brisebois exclaimed as he cut himself a piece of meat, "Chef Marteau really knows how to cook."

"Probably cause all these kids would throw a tantrum if their food wasn't done right," an American soldier remarked as he looked at a group of students.

"I'll be sure to tell him that you liked his food Corporal Brisebois," Siesta said with a smile, "But you must show him your cooking as well."

"Someday I will," the man answered in a friendly tone, "Though it's not very fancy. I just cook for the average man who needs a quick fill."

"Chef Marteau is a very open man when it comes to food," Siesta defended, "Who knows? Maybe the nobles will like your cooking."

Many of the soldiers chuckled at the idea of a pompous noble praising something as simple as a hamburger. It was frankly ridiculous.

"You enjoying everything here Miss Siesta?," an American soldier asked with a smile, "Like the ambiance."

"Yes, very much," she replied, "Papa and maman as well. My family managed to travel here to see the Coronation."

"Oh?" Brisebois wondered, "Where are they?"

"I think they wanted to try some of your hamburgers if I'm not mistaken."

"Hope they'll enjoy them," the corporal replied, "I help make them."

Suddenly loud gasps began to be heard.

"Look, the Coronation is finally beginning!" All eyes turned to the screen.

* * *

The ceremony had gone without a hitch. Henrietta recited every prayer and oath without a single flaw during the coronation. It was now time for one of the final rituals : the Changing of the Scepters. Princess Henrietta handed her Scepter of Inheritance to Cardinal Mazarin.

"As this Scepter proves that I am Heir to the Blessed Throne of the Realm of Water, I shall discard it for I am no longer Heir."

"On behalf of the Holy Founder, Brimir, I accept your relinquishing of the Scepter of Inheritance, for you are no longer Heir of the Blessed Throne of the Realm of Water. This Scepter shall once be stored until the coming of the Heir."

"I entrust the Church of the Founder with its safekeeping until the coming of the Heir."

Mazarin delicately placed the Scepter of Inheritance into a magnificent chest before picking up in the palms of his hands another, more regal Scepter.

"As Servant of the Holy Founder, I ask of you, Henrietta of Tristainia, Daughter of King Henry I and Queen Marianne, that you shall lead the Blessed Realm of Water, Tristain, through both peace and adversity as its Queen. Shall you do what is needed for this endeavour?"

"I, Henrietta of Tristain, pledge to lead the Blessed Realm of Water, Tristain, through both peace and adversity as its Queen. I shall do what is needed for this endeavour."

Mazarin held out the Scepter of Rulership before Henrietta who kissed it before taking it. He then removed her crown.

"Henrietta of Tristain, I now remove the Crown of the Dauphin for you are no longer learning to be the guiding hand of the Blessed Realm of Water.."

"I am not longer learning to be guiding hand of the Blessed Realm of Water, Tristain. I have learned from the wisdom of the Holy Founder Brimir to lead one of His realms. I relinquish the Crown of the Dauphin as is required of me."

Mazarin placed Henrietta's old crown into the box before producing another crown. The one her father had worn. It was a magnificent crown of gold with blue jewels symbolizing Tristain's elemental affinity.

"As Queen of the Blessed Realm of Water and descendant of the Holy Founder, great burdens shall be placed upon you. Do you accept the burdens of the Crown of Tristainia?"

"I do," Henrietta answered gravely.

"As Queen of the Blessed Realm of Water and descendant of the Holy Founder, great power shall be placed upon you. Do you accept the power of the Crown of Tristainia?"

"I do."

"As Queen of the Blessed Realm of Water and descendant of the Holy Founder, great responsibility shall be placed upon you. Do you accept the responsibility of the Crown of Tristainia?

"I do."

"With the Oaths of Inheritance accepted before the Holy Founder, I proclaim you Queen of the Blessed Realm of Water. You are no longer her Highness, Princess Henrietta of Tristain. Henceforth, you shall be known as Her Majesty, Queen Henrietta I of Tristain."

Mazarin placed the Crown of Tristania upon Henrietta's head and she stood up.

It was a solemn moment for all those watching with no one daring to make a sound. From their seats, near the middle of the room, Trump and Trudeau watched with appropriate respect. Across the aisle, Saito and Louise watched beside the rest of Louise's family. They didn't even let the agents sitting directly behind them spoil the mood.

But the ceremony wasn't done yet as two squires entered the room from side doors. One bared a sword and the other, a breastplate emblazoned with the Royal Seal of Tristain. The one bearing the sword stood on Henrietta's right while the other stood on her left.

"Queen Henrietta I of Tristain," Mazarin started again, "As Queen of the Blessed Realm of Water, Tristain, will your sword arm proudly carry the sword to defend Tristain and the work of the Holy Founder from those that seek their ruin?"

"Queen Henrietta I of Tristain, as Queen of the Blessed Realm of Water, I, Henrietta Ist, will proudly carry the sword in my sword arm to defend Tristain and the work of the Holy Founder from those that seek their ruin."

The squire hung the sword on her hip before she drew it and held it with the blade pointing upwards. She kissed the pommel to seal her Oath of the Sword.

"Queen Henrietta I of Tristain, as Queen of the Blessed Realm of Water, will you devote your body, heart and spirit to defending those that cannot defend themselves against evil as is demanded of the descendants of the Holy Founder?"

"I, Queen Henrietta I, will devote my body, heart and spirit to defending those that cannot defend themselves against evil as is demanded of the descendants of the Holy Founder."

Henrietta stood and tall before raising her arms outwards. The squire fitted her armour to seal her Oath of the Defender.

"With the Oaths of the Sword and of the Defender sealed, you, Queen Henrietta I of Tristain, now fully rule upon Tristain as her Sovereign." Mazarin declared, "May you serve Tristain long and well. May your rule bring the Grace of the Founder upon Tristain! Long Live Queen Henrietta I!"

Those present at the Coronation stood up from the Cathedral's pews.

"Long Live Queen Henrietta I!"

Before Mazarin could call out the same sentence again, a series of shouts interrupted the perfect ceremony.

"Death to the Heretical Queen and her blasphemous allies!"

And suddenly all hell broke loose.

 **Author's endnotes:**

 **Well shit.**

 **To any British readers, I hope I didn't mess up the two princes when writing them. My apologies if I did. Feel free to PM to correct any mistakes. Also, don't be alarmed if you see this fic on Archives of our Own, I'm crossposting over there.**


	12. Chapter 10: Sowing the Wind

**Disclaimer: FoZ/ZnT belong to the departed Noboru Yamaguchi and whoever inherited the I.P.. Any real life organisation/person is merely being used in a fictional non-profit way.**

 **Author's note:**

 **This chapter wrote itself.**

 **For those of you who don't understand why the secret agents were so hard on Saito, here's an explanation. An 18 year old guy in a foreign land helps you a lot. You find out he's got something on him that grants complete mastery of any weapon system you own. You know he's been living in that place for awhile and he's been busy doing things for the local authorities before you showed up. Who's to say that he's really on your side? Throw in the fact that the guy gets that ability of mastering any weapon from a magical set of runes that you don't understand… who says those runes don't just give him his abilities with weapons? For all you could know, those runes could also be used to control him from a distance.**

 **Hence why the agents are paranoid and did what they did.**

 **As for a space center visit… well here's the thing: Unlike the funeral, which served to show Earth that Henrietta and co. were decent human beings and boosting relationships between the nations, a visit to the space center, while cool, doesn't do much to advance the plot in my opinion. Our technology is already mind boggling enough for them. For example, modern fertilizers, medicine and mass production, while mundane for us, are things they can barely believe possible. There's no need to show off our orbital capabilities just yet. Both are much more relevant to show them than space travel which wouldn't help them all that much for the time being. It could make for a cool bonus chapter but that's gonna take a while.**

 **Sowing the wind**

Shock registered across Earth's newsrooms with news anchors losing their composure. The feed from the Coronation was interrupted as viewers everywhere saw cameras toppling to the ground and saw gunshots, spells and chaos on their television. News feeds in America, Canada, Britain, and around the world suddenly cut back to the studios, showing shocked staff members. But a few managed to stay online and aired the confusing scene that was happening in the other world.

Just what had happened?

* * *

The chaos unfolded seemingly everywhere in the Cathedral. Guards who had been standing against the walls suddenly attacked each other, rushed the Queen, or rushed into the crowd. Several robed figures in the crowd itself stood up brandishing wands threateningly towards the Queen or towards other mages.

A concentrated jet of water hit one of them and sent the assassin crashing into a nearby wall. Henrietta lowered her scepter as the sunlight from the midday sun shone on her from the stained glass of the cathedral.

"Agnes!" Her Musketeer guard was in front of her instantly, along with two others, their swords and pistols drawn. Agnes took aim and blew away an armored guard charging the new queen with a halberd.

It became apparent something was happening. A coup? An assassination? Whatever was happening, the scene became even more chaotic as American, British and Canadian guards drew their concealed weapons. The audience was rushing forward, most of them to protect the Queen, and others to kill her.

At the same time, the security details were trying to get their charges to safety. Many Tristainian nobles rushing to the front was knocked out of the way by broad shouldered members of either the American Secret Service, the RCMP, or Scotland Yard going the opposite way.

Suddenly, one of the armored guards appeared in front of Trump and his detail, weapon raised threateningly. A 9mm bullet hit the assassin at close range, splattering bits of blood and brain on the agents and even the POTUS.

"This was a new suit shitheads! Get me out of here now!" the President roared and cursed as he stumbled forward between his guards who were engaging hostiles, "Get'em!"

Many people were surging forward, but a few were surging after the retreating outworlders too.

Not far from Trump's group, Trudeau's security was trying to make a path out of the crowd for him. In the confusion where guards were looking in all directions, one of the assassins tried to rush the group at a momentary blind spot with a dagger. As the assassin closed the gap, he saw his quarry turn towards him… before seeing a fist entering his field of vision and blacking him out.

The assassin's head flew backwards with blood squirting from his broken nose while his dagger fell out of his hand before a short burst of shots ended his life. Trudeau had drawn on his boxing experience to punch the man.

"Good hook there M. Prime Minister," one of his guards said as he covered the blind spot. Trudeau nodded and fixed his tie as they moved.

The crowd of nobles and mages were constrained. Spells were powerful, but they weren't precise. In the densely packed mob, not many could safely cast combat magic. This ended up being many of their downfalls as the guards hacked away at them with swords and spears and other manners of weapons freely and with homicidal glee.

"Death to the unbelievers!" one of them shouted as he cut his way through the crowd, "Down with the false priest! Cromwell and the Holy Founder guide us!" Those seven words rang loud and sent cold terror down everyone's spines.

At the front of the chapel, at least ten assassins had cornered Henrietta and her guard. Agnes still stood defiantly in front of her, and the Archduchess and Cardinal were trying to shield their courageous Queen.

"What madness has befallen you?!" Mazarin shouted at them, "How dare you draw swords against your queen?!"

"Traitorous bastards." Agnes hissed as she tightened her grip on the sword and held it proudly.

"You are the traitors!" one of the assassins yelled back as he raised his sword, "Allying yourself with blasphemous powers! Brimir will punish for your sins!" Henrietta stared in horror at the mess the chapel had become. All of the armored guards still alive seemed to be attacking the nobles.

' _How? How could so many of our people turned on us in an instant?'_ Henrietta thought grimly as she clutched her scepter firmly. She swore that she heard Cardinal Mazarin whisper "Forgive me Blessed Founder," as he reached into his robes.

One of them rushed Agnes with his spear. The Musketeer sidestepped with precision before slicing at the guard's vulnerable neckpiece.

"If any of you wish to harm her Majesty, you'll have to go through me!" she challenged fiercely as the assassin fell to the ground.

Just a little behind the throng, Saito was trying to shield Louise while his brother tried to make sense of the situation. Unable the cast magic without the risk of harming themselves or other nobles, the whole thing had degraded into a melee, swords being drawn and swung around.

"Louise!" a voice shrieked out.

"Mother!"

Looking over, Louise saw her parents draw their weapons. A single armored assassin charged, and with a flick of her swordwand her mother sent him flying with tremendous force into the wall before falling to the ground in a heap. The Duchess had to restrain herself despite her anger. Battlefield spells were too risky… as they could hit other loyalists.

"Get our daughter out of here boy!" Louise's father directed at Saito as he casted a spell that trapped an assassin in constricting vines.

"Yes sir!" Saito was surprised he managed to answer back.

"But her Majesty!" Louise shouted back, "I have to-"

"Louise, you are not staying here!" her father yelled back, "This is too dangerous for you!"

"You ready to fight partner!" Derflinger shouted from his scabbard.

"Shit shit!" Hayate cursed as he dove behind one of the benches as a stray spell passed over his head, "You guys have a plan Saito?!"

The two intelligence agents had also drawn their weapons. MP5 submachine guns rattled off at anyone wearing a suit of armor. They weren't moving out with their Commander in Chief. They were staying to deal with the assassins with the rest of the Tristainian loyalists.

"You two get-"

One of the agents took a spell that hit him squarely in the head with a piece of wall. The man flew like a ragdoll before landing near Saito, his gun clattering loudly onto the floor. Saito quickly crawled towards it and the unmoving agent. An idea ran through his head. Grabbing the MP5, his runes lit up. The weapon was still good to go. As much he hated it, the teenager searched the agent for ammunition.

Quickly spotting some of the assassins that were trying to hack their way to the front, Saito raised his weapon and started shooting while Derflinger was complaining that he couldn't see action. One the agents escorting Trump noticed Saito fighting his way out as he heard the gunshots.

"Get yourself out of here kid!" he shouted while he guided his president through the mess, "This ain't the time to be a fucking hero!"

"They still got those kids around?!" Trump exclaimed, impressed, as he spotted Saito and Louise.

Meanwhile, the British royals were being evacuated, their guards efficiently clearing a way through the panicked nobles and cutting down any assassins targeting them. Not all were rushing to the front. A few wanted to save their own skin, although a good portion of the ones fleeing were children and teenages told to do so by their parents.

"Come on!" Saito ordered to Louise and Hayate as he bagged another assassin that was about to blast a spell at Trump. Meanwhile, Louise's parents were using their magic and swords to clear their way forward to their new queen, their skills unmatched and their fury leading them forward.

Everything thus far, from the near assassination of Trump, to Trudeau knocking out an assassin, to spells flying everywhere, to some random kid picking up a gun and laying people out, had been broadcasted by a still standing cameraman near the back of the Cathedral. A reporter was still bravely standing and commenting the scene.

"Oh my God! I don't even know how to describe the chaos!" Ronny Marinin exclaimed as he watched the scene unfurl in front of him, "There's dead and injured everywhere! I can see some of our people making their way out!"

He and his cameraman ducked out of the way as a stray spell almost hit them.

"That was too close!" his cameraman exclaimed as he picked himself up.

"You ok Eric?!"

"Yeah, camera's still working too!"

"Are you two ok Ronny?!" a voice asked in the reporter's earpiece.

"Yeah!"

"Get yourselves out of there!"

"No way, we'll keep our heads down!," the reporter shot back as he picked himself, "This needs to be filmed!"

The reporter then pulled Eric back up and did his best to resume coverage. They were the eyes of Earth.

* * *

Meanwhile, Saito was running out of the Cathedral with Hayate and Louise as well as the rest of the crowd. The lovely, sunny weather outside contrasted harshly with the carnage that had just happened. The teen had been taking potshots at the assassins that the security details had missed in the chaos. As he reloaded, he saw another man in the crowd raise a wand towards a fallen, panicking reporter and his badly-injured cameraman, his camera lying on the nearby ground.

"Shit!"

Louise also saw the assassin. She clenched her wand firmly before yelling an incantation and casting her spell towards him. As usual, the spell exploded… and sent the soot-covered assassin flying hard before he landed hard on his head.

"Holy shit!" Hayate cursed out, "What kind of girlfriend did you get?!"

"What the hell was that?!" Trump roared as he saw the blast. The Secret Service agents looked around and saw Louise lowering her wand.

"Sir, it's one of the locals! She took down another hostile!"

"Good for them! I want-"

"M. President, just get in the limousine sir!"

Just then, a limousine screeched to a halt before the president and his guards. Trump barely had the time to breathe that he was shoved into the limousine. It wasn't long that the other leader and royals from Earth were spirited to the embassies where evac was waiting. Some of the agents returned inside to assist.

But in the Cathedral, blood was still flowing. The mass had separated enough that nobles were killing the assassins with ease and prejudice. Gunfire erupted as the agents returned to help. At least two duels had started with other assassin mages. At the front, Agnes was the only Musketeer still standing, bloody and hunched over, in front of around a dozen dead assassins. A few others layed charred from Mazarin's fire magic or knocked out cold from Henrietta and her mother's water and ice blasts.

"Anymore cowards wish to face me!" Agnes shouted out haggardly as she surveyed the scene for threats. There were none. The only assassins left were still in the crowd, being handled by the nobles. A few of the loyal, many wounded and bloody, came forward to boldly stand in front of Henrietta to shield her from the ilk that remained in the building. But the situation inside was nearly resolved. Upon noticing that none of the attackers still drew breath, Agnes allowed herself the luxury to collapse.

Outside was a different story; there were more assassins. As soon as the commotion had started in the building, hooded figures wielding crossbows had appeared on nearby rooftops, ready to kill anyone leaving. Then, at an alarming frequency, they started to fall, holes being blasted into their heads and torsos causing them to plummet to the ground below. Some had their throats slit or skulls caved in with extreme violence. Within a minute all of them were dead.

The Navy SEALS, SAS, and JTF-2 didn't let even a single one of them get a shot off. No one attacked their leaders and rulers without being punished. _No one._

* * *

During the whole assault, the Tristanians who watched everything on the great viewing screens were horrified. A collective gasp was heard throughout the capital when the first blades were drawn at the Cathedral. They watched everything unfurl before them with horror. Their queen, nobles and their allies' leaders were being attacked in what was one of the most sacred events of their times. Many prayed for Brimir to protect them from harm as they saw the battle play out, no one peeling their eyes from the screen.

After all the intense moments, the final assassin fell and a small sigh of collective relief could be heard in the capital. By Brimir, the Queen was saved!

* * *

At the Academy, the students, teachers and servants were terrified. Not only at the scene they had witnessed but at the Earth soldiers' reaction. One moment, these men were happily eating, drinking and conversing with the Tristainians… the next was terrifying as the soldiers got angry and started yelling at the screen for their leaders' guards to kill all the assassins. Siesta shrunk in fear as she saw Brisebois roar in anger next to her, his drink falling to the ground. It was a stark contrast to the friendly and helpful men that had come to Tarbes looking for the Raiment.

A loud cry caught their attention. Looking over, they saw a blond teen with a frilly collar collapse to his knees in shock while a blonde girl tried to shake him. Tears were streaking down from his eyes.

"The God-Emperor lives! Eat it assholes!" an American soldier shouted madly, surprising the Tristainians watching the scene, "Y'all done goofed!"

"Holy shit, Trudeau actually has fucking balls!" a surprised Huynh yelled as he jumped up from his seat, "Eat it dipshits!"

"You're fucked now you fantasy fucks!"

"Cromwell mon ostie de tabarnak! On va te calisser une ostie de volée!"

Loud wailing caught some of the soldiers attention. Huynh turned his head over as he saw Guiche crying about his mother being dead into a blonde girl's arms.

A message came over the speakers before any of the Earth soldiers could rush over to the teen and comfort him.

"All personnel are to report to combat stations immediately!" the voice ordered. There wasn't a single complaint amongst the enlisted men as they all started running out of the academy grounds. ushered by their officers and their anger. Something their officers shared.

They already knew what was going to happen- the gloves were coming off.

* * *

"I want all available resources geared towards Albion's ports, now!" Colonel Hamilton yelled with authority as he stepped in the base's control room. The last three days had been busy. With the visit from the POTUS and other high ranking individuals from Canada and Britain, security over Tristain's airspace had been a key concern: Making sure no air traffic got dangerous close to the leaders of North America. This wasn't like Earth, where you could have fighters ready to intercept. Prevention was the key here.

Not that they were ignoring Albion, either. The idea the rogue kingdom could switch from clandestine to overt means of conflict were still considered plausible, so they kept watch. Aside form the occasional patrol, most of the ships stayed at the docks. It'd be quiet for the first two days of the leader's visit and through all the important talks.

But just today, at the same time the Cathedral in the Tristain capital was filling up, a report came in from intelligence agents on the ground that was quickly forwarded to the Colonels just minutes later. There were ground troops arriving in alarming numbers in Albion's ports. Tens of thousands of them. No word if they were embarking or not yet, but they could if they wanted to.

"They're building up. Can only be for one reason." Colonel Roberts stated.

"If they're going to invade, our leaders will be long gone before they make landfall." They'd be out of there even faster if they got word. But there wasn't a reason to stir the nest just yet until there was a verified threat.

They all stared at the enlarged radar display on the wall in front of them. There were around a dozen blips around the eastern tip of the country- the side facing them- patrolling. All were within 10 miles of land. But that was the only movement.

Devers and Harper appeared to both military officers. They'd stayed at the academy themselves for a week to watch Saito and Louise and then returned to the base to continue overseeing the larger intelligence operation. Teams from each country took turns watching the pair now.

"How long would it take those troops to board and the ships to make way?" Hamilton asked.

"Depends. Most of the troops were footmen and wear all their gear. The ships can be off as soon as they're all on board. But if they want to bring anything more than that like horses and cannons, they'll need a little more time." Devers explained. "A day at most for any reasonably sized army."

"The warehouses in the ports have been under heavy guard for the last three months. Could be supplies they'll start loading up. But for that many ships and that many troops? They'll need time." Harper added.

"Put all rotary assets on standby, put the troops on heightened alert." Hamilton ordered. The Canadian CH-146s were still here, although the Navy Seahawks had left for their homefleet along with the Seabees. In their place had arrived two UH-60L Blackhawks from a stateside Army Aviation Brigade. An upgraded version of the iconic aircraft, they could pack the same armaments as the naval variant.

"They're still watching the port?" He asked the agents.

"As close as they can without stepping on any toes. They'll be reporting in at 30 minute intervals. Next one is due in…" He checked his watch. "24 minutes."

Sometimes all you could do is hurry up and wait. The helicopters were fueled and armed, their crews on standby. Every soldier and MP on the base had their gear and were waiting for something to fall. In the nerve center, everyone watched for any other signs of activity. And on time has the agents as promised, another report came in.

"Reports came in from all teams." Devers started pointing to various ports. "Something is definitely up. We got footmen embarking on ships in all the ports. A large amount of cavalry at this port, canons here, and dragons here." He saved for last the closest port to them.

"They're embarking dragons?" Colonel Hamilton asked. They'd witnessed it only once from the Tristainians, but dragon riders, or any flying creature riders really, could launch from airships. It was like a fantasy version of an aircraft carrier. Dragons were fast and nimble- some of the breeds they'd been told, could reach up to 100 miles an hour without a rider, an impressive feat for this world. Fire dragons, which were widely bred, could breath fire. A mage riding on their back could fire spells off at anything in the air or on the ground.

They were considered to most threatening thing to North American forces in this world, at least while the lack of aircraft negated the good old American strategy of air superiority. They gave off a good heat signature and any infrared AA could easily acquire them, but they were still air assets. And in war, you were always cautious of air assets.

Hamilton's nostrils flared, a subtle sign of agitation. "Contact the Pentagon and NDHQ, tell them we have may be facing imminent attack. Get in contact with the party in the Capital and warn them." This might cause a political incident, but safety came first. They needed to get the POTUS out of there until things were safer. No sooner had the words left his mouth, and before either message could be sent, urgent shouting arrived from the communication section.

"Colonel, emergency transmission from the Capital! Someone's attacking the coronation!"

"Who?" The colonel demanded.

"We don't know. The comms are overloaded. It's chaos over there." The control room was in a flurry as they tried, in vain, to make contact or sense of what was going on. Then it got worse.

A junior agent appeared to Devers and Harper with news a transmission had been sent ahead of schedule, and they turned grim-faced to Hamilton. "Three ships loaded with dragons just departed from dock. Their heading puts them right towards us." Hamilton immediately ordered the radar operators to find them. Three tightly packed blips began to stand out, leaving Albion at a rapid pace.

"There dragons on those?" Roberts asked.

"There's a high probability."

"Send word back to Earth." Hamilton ordered calmly. They were all calm. They were and always had been ready for something like this.

Let Albion come. They would face them.

* * *

After the attack, Saito, Louise and Hayate had been brought to the palace by Louise's parents. As they entered their quarters, they all blew a sigh of relief. Saito put down the MP5 on a nearby table.

"I think we should change," Hayate suggested, "Get into something more comfortable."

Glancing at both of them, he grinned, trying to defuse the tension.

"You two are not changing in same the room by the way."

Louise blushed and glared at him and before entering her room while Derflinger snickered After a few moments, everyone was changed into more casual wear.

"Hey Hayate?" Saito asked as he collapsed in a chair while his brother crashed in a couch.

"Yeah?" he breathed, finally catching his breath for the first time of the day.

"Think that guard might have made it out?"

Hayate stopped.

"Shit."

He tried remembering how the whole scene played out. It was a bit hazy but the medical student remembered that the agent had been hit in the head with flying masonry and fell hard.

"Honestly, he could be… well dead," he finally answered glumly, "A hit like that probably gave him at least a commotion. If he's lucky, it'll be just that."

The mood was rather somber in the room.

"Hey, at least you guys are all alive and in one piece," Derflinger spoke up, "I suggest you rest a little. Things are gonna get hectic soon."

A knock caught their attention. Saito drew his MP5.

"Excuse me but can I come in? It's Ian Stanford."

"Yeah, you can!" Hayate replied as the door swung open revealing a man dressed with a light blue shirt and black pants. A plate carrier covered his chest and his eyes were hidden behind sunglasses. He looked surprisingly calm for all the chaos unfolding in the Capital.

"Happy to see you all in one piece," Stanford said as he entered, "Wanted to check if you were doing fine."

"Thank you," Saito answered flatly.

"But I should be the one thanking you both Lady Vallière, M. Hiraga," the agent said, "The others saw your little exploits at the coronation."

"Oh, I just did what I had to," Saito answered.

"Yes, it's the duty of the Vallière family to stand against the enemies of Tristain," Louise added proudly. She was quite happy to be praised for her deeds.

"That being said, I need that gun back." He said flatly, holding a hand out to Saito.

"Oh eum sure." the teen answered as he handed back the gun, "Excuse me but do you think that M. Devers and M. Harper would clear me for work again? I mean, I did help you and everything." Maybe that was a little tactless of him, but Saito just had to ask.

"I don't want to get your hopes up kid but I think they'll be able reconsider everything once this is all done."

The answer didn't please them but it was better than nothing.

"So what happens now?" Louise asked, "What will you do?"

"You kids don't worry about that." He said as he started to leave with the weapon in hand. "Leave it to the professionals."

* * *

Phones were ringing furiously in the Pentagon's war room while personnel were scurrying about. Mattis calmly picked up one of them.

"Hello Jim. You've seen what I've just seen?"

"Hello Harjit. Yes. We're raising all our forces in North America to higher readiness."

"Excellent. We're mobilizing all Reserve units and Montreal is under state of emergency as we speak. We'll contact you should we have anymore developments."

"Understood." Their exchange had been calm, collected, and simple despite the high stress situation. True professional officers.

Both men hung up as they returned to their task. Mattis exited the Pentagon while the Joint Chiefs and their staffs were busy coming up with plans for the whole crisis as well verifying what assets were available to them. As Mattis entered a limousine that was to take him to a secret, high security location, his phone rang.

"GET EVERYONE!" Trump ordered angrily over the phone as Mattis' limo sped off with police motorcycles surrounding it.

"An emergency meeting is being arranged right now. We hope to see you home soon, M. President. I assure you that everything is being handled over here."

"Good! I want to know what we can do against Cromwell for this! They're going to regret this day!"

"Yes, M. President. They will."

* * *

"We are unable to get any more news from Tristain right now besides that the attack has finally ended," a news anchor said, appearing back on the screen five minutes after the feed had been cut on what whatever happened, "The American and Canadian governments have not yet revealed any details about this attack."

A short woman was seething in her living room as she watched the news. She had been told by her sons to watch the coronation even if it was late into the night.

"There are going to pay for trying to hurt our sons!" Hiraga Nasu suddenly shrieked angrily, "Saito and Hayate are never leaving this house if they come here again!"

A dark menacing aura surrounded her. Anyone from Reconquista that crossed her path would meet a most terrible and painful death from threatening to harm her beloved sons.

"Saito you little rascal! You are grounded if you ever get back home!"

Meanwhile, Hiraga Ichika's jaw had dropped at what he saw…his youngest son taking down assassins and getting his loved ones out safely. He was torn between pride for Saito's bravery and anger that his sons were placed in such a dire predicament. He was sure his brother was raising a glass to Saito's deeds in the afterlife and cheering on his nephew; it was the exact same fighting spirit he'd had as a cop.

"Calm down dear," he tried to say to his wife. He was certain that the woman had popped a few veins in her forehead, "He got everyone out safely."

His wife fell to her knees and began sobbing about how both her sons were endangered. Her husband wrapped his arms around her and whispered words of comfort as best he could.

* * *

"Cromwell you bloody bastard!" was a phrase that resonated in many pubs and taverns across the United Kingdom and Ireland. The British government reacted like a kicked hornet's nest despite it being late in the evening. The Armed Forces were being put on alert. Parliament Members stopped whatever they were doing and prepared to head into work late.

Meanwhile, in Buckingham Palace, an elderly lady calmly ordered a servant to bring her a phone, her upper lip having stiffened considerably. She had not uttered a word since witnessing the attack on the telly. After dialing a number and waiting, someone answered. Yes, there was a crisis situation, but her number was not one to be ignored.

"Hello Prime Minister May," Queen Elizabeth II said calmly into the phone before sipping some tea.

"Good evening your Majesty," the Prime Minister replied, sensing the tranquil fury in her Sovereign's voice, "We are doing our best to coordinate with the Americans and Canadians. The princes are both safe."

"Splendid then, I have a small request for our brave fighting men and I shall be out of your hair."

* * *

People were reacting all over the world in all timezones for hours afterwards. Ten minutes after most of the feeds cut, an emergency UN meeting was already being arranged. Markets in North America, Europe, and Asia fluctuated terribly. In Tehran, despite being nearly midnight, parades erupted in the city streets, many ultranationalists cheering for Oliver Cromwell and Reconquista for close to an hour before government security forces mobilized to scatter them. ISIS fighters were celebrating in their strongholds as well when the news eventually reached them.

In the Pacific, South Korea and Japan went on sudden alert as North Korea government released a cryptic statement about being happy that no Earth leader was harmed but criticizing the American and Canadian presence in Halkeginia. The Chinese Central Committee called an emergency meeting. The Japanese cabinet also held an emergency meeting. The highest level of the government knew that they had two nationals in the Cathedral when everything went wrong… and were certain that one of them engaged the assassins.

In the Kremlin, Putin had already arrived from his private residence to handle any fallout to the international stage this would cause. In Western Europe, the European monarchs were appalled at what they saw. Defiling a coronation was unacceptable in their mind. Emmanuel Macron and Angela Merkel had called emergency meetings with their ministers and had sent directives to their ambassadors in Canada and the United States. All members of NATO realized what this could mean; Brussels, despite the late hours, was abuzz with activity as NATO's headquarters filled with people.

* * *

Henrietta sat soberly in her Palace. The young queen had been rushed back to the building but not before sending a reassuring message to the media thanks to the last standing reporter, Ronny Marinin. Her message had been short.

" _My subjects and allies. I ask of you not to worry. This vicious attack has been thwarted and no leaders from any nation have been harmed. The perpetrators have been defeated by our forces and our allies. I ask all of Tristain's people remain strong in this difficult time. By the grace of Brimir, we shall overcome."_

That was as much as she could say before her mother and the Cardinal ushered her out of the bloody hellscape the sacred building had become. Agnes was being carried away by the nobles, having been stabilized by Henrietta herself.

The door to her office opened, revealing a weary looking Delage. He had been at the Palace's infirmary for the past hours.

"Your Majesty," he began gravely, "We have a list of those injured and dead."

"I wish to see it."

Delage nodded before handing her the list. She recognized the names and sighed bitterly. A few sprung up. Lady de Grammond was killed by a sword blow while Count de Grandpré had been injured by a spell. General Du Poitier had a close call and was lying in bed for a broken arm. The Vallière had come out uninjured. Her mother as well. But many of of Tristains noble families had suffered today. Some worse than others.

"Albion will pay for this." She muttered darkly. There could be no doubt they were behind this. The traitors' words rang in her ears again.

"Yes your Majesty. Do we have word from the Americans and Canadians?" Delage asked. Henrietta shook her head.

"Not yet. They are concerned about their leaders. I saw some of their wounded being cared for in the Cathedral." The assassins had attacked their media too. What horrible acts.

A ring caught their attention. Henrietta picked up the phone. It was an Earth invention; they'd installed one recently so her and the ambassadors could talk without constant meetings. They also showed her how to use it. The queen put it on speaker mode so Delage could hear.

"Hello your Majesty." She recognized Ambassador Ambroise's voice but it was filled with concern. "Are you okay?"

"I am quite tired but unharmed Ambassadors. Thank you for your worry. Did your leaders escape harm?"

"They are fine both of them," a third voice came in, "Greetings your Majesty."

"Greeting Ambassador Fitzgerald."

"Let's get to business," the American asked seriously, "Albion agents clearly infiltrated the ceremony. Do you have any suspects?"

Henrietta nodded.

"Currently, it would be Count Mott. He was arrested two months ago for collusion with Albion, but I fear that he might have some accomplices that were well hidden away."

"I see."

"I will ride out with my guards to his mansion," Henrietta stated, "We will search for anything unusual."

"Who was in charge of security?" Fitzgerald asked. "The reports are sketchy, but it says the guards attacked the guests?"

"The guards and some nobles within the crowd." Henrietta explained, "It was Minister Richemont."

"Where is he right now?" The Ambassador asked tensely. Henrietta wasn't sure. She'd seen him at the start of the coronation, but not after the attack started.

"I saw him." Delage stated, "A guard approached him and whispered something apparently urgent and he left. Not all of our security was traitor- many loyal guards were slaughtered by their comrades before they moved on to attack you. If I had to make a guess, Richemont was led away under false pretenses so he couldn't rally those loyal guards.."

"He may be in danger then." Henrietta realized with horror. If so many of his other guards were traitors, the ones he took with him could very well be luring him away to slit his throat. The Count and Richemont had always been close friends; Mott could've had any number of opportunities to turn his men against him. Losing her experienced Justice Minister would be a bad blow to her kingdom.

"That's unfortunate." Ambroise sounded sympathetic. "We'll inform our leadership of this. Please, your Majesty, keep us informed on what happens. Our leaders want closure on this and Prime Minister Trudeau has told me that some of his guards are available to help in your endeavours."

"President Trump has told that me that our forces are available to assist as well," Fitzgerald said.

"Thank you, Ambassadors."

"When are you leaving?"

"Within the hour." Henrietta stated, noticing the alarm on Delage's face. Old habits die hard; the former members of her regency council were still concerned for her well being.

"Very well, we will provide you with transportation. We'd prefer if this was resolved before the day was over."

"Minister Delage, have the noble armies secure the capital and borders," Henrietta ordered, "Please bring Lady Louise-Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière and M. Hiraga Saito here. I have need of them." She turned her attention back to the phone. Delage nodded before exiting.

"Ambassadors, I promise I will call you later tonight with news on what has happened."

"Thank you, your Majesty. And good luck."

"We'll stay in touch your Majesty."

Henrietta nodded before the line cut. She took a moment to catch her breath. It had been barely a few hours that she was queen that she had been thrust into a crisis that started as her new crown was placed upon her head. She hoped that her decisions had been the right ones. The door opened again, revealing Louise, Saito and Hayate being led by Minister Delage. They all curtsied before Henrietta.

"Thank you for being Louise-Françoise, M. Saito," Henrietta said tiredly, "I have need of your help. Do you wish to help me as well Hayate?"

Hayate cleared his throat and nodded.

"Yes your Majesty," he answered confidently, "I wish to assist your healers with the injured."

"Minister Delage, please guide him to the Hospital wing," Henrietta commanded,

"I would like to see if the Canadians can allow the rest of my team to come and help," the medical student added, "Is there anyway for me to talk with the Canadian authorities."

Henrietta nodded and dialed the Canadian Embassy.

"Yes, Ambassador Ambroise? I have a request for you."

* * *

Trudeau was the first to get back to his capital. The ride back to Montreal International for a speedy flight back to Ottawa was fast with the streets clear of almost all traffic. The car ride from Ottawa's airport was slightly more eventful as thousands of concerned citizens came out to see him taken back to safety. His Ministers were already waiting for him there.

"Welcome M. Prime Minister," Sajjan said as they entered National Defense Headquarters, "We hope the trip back was smooth."

"Very much, thank you for worrying. What's the situation?" Trudeau asked as they walked, "Has anything changed in Tristain?"

"The Queen is safe." Freeland answered. "She's already investigating the situation- they have a suspect."

"I see. What's happened here on Earth in the last few hours?"

"Our allies have been holding emergency meetings," the Foreign Minister stated, "We'll have more news in the coming hours."

"The press want a conference as soon as possible," Goodale added, "Right now, they're not only furious you got attacked but also that their reporters got attacked. They're all safe at the embassy right now. A few injured, but that's all. No one from earth seems to have been killed."

"There's an important security matter to discuss." Sajjan interjected. "We got word from the Joint Base just before the Cathedral attack."

"Yes?" Trudeau asked, dread evident in his voice.

"Thousands of Albionian troops have begun massing in their ports since the start of the day. A few ships left dock and made way in the direction of our base before stopping. They've been there the past few hours."

"Is an invasion imminent?" Trudeau demanded.

"We don't know just yet," Sajjan reported, "But it makes sense- decapitate the Tristain and our leadership and take over in the chaos. I've discussed it with Secretary Mattis. We recommend that more ammunition and supplies are to be delivered to the base. Extra men would be a possibly as well."

"The Queen is still alive though. They might not go through with it."

"Not a risk we can take. If Tristain falls, so does our border." Trudeau was quiet and contemplative for a moment, then he made his decision.

"I want the outpost and the base reinforced. Can we enact any emergency deployment plans if needed?"

"We've had ones in place for months now." Sajjan confirmed. "We can have infantry, artillery, and vast quantities of supplies across the portal in only a few hours."

"Good." Trudeau nodded as they entered a crisis room.

At the same time that Trudeau was on his flight, Air Force One was leaving for Washington D.C. The American President was seen to by medical staff and declared unharmed. The president had argued that he was fine all along the examination.

* * *

The pilot was making for US soil as fast as possible. Trump wasn't going to wait to arrive; he grew impatient a few hours in and had a video call set up right there on the plane. Back in the Capital, his Cabinet was already gathered and waiting in a secret location.

"M. President, are you alright?!" There was alarm in their voices when Trump appeared on their screen wearing a suit covered in blood and brain matter.

"I'm fine. Secret Service did their jobs unlike that damned Richemont!" He fumed. "These Reconquista bastards have gone too far this time. We are not going to stand for this."

"No sir, we will not." Mattis agreed. "We received important information while you were being extracted. Albion has started massing troops at their ports. A few ships started approaching our base as the attack started, but stopped midway. It seems like this was a decapitation attempt before they moved in to occupy Tristain. I can only assume they've stopped since the assassinations failed."

"Those assholes! I want that base reinforced then!" He ordered. "And get us some goddamn planes over there." These people wanted to play? They'd get some bombs dropped on their heads then!

"We'll have to contact the Canadians for that," Secretary of State Pompeo pointed out, "I've received word that Trudeau has just arrived in Ottawa and is meeting with his cabinet."

"Contact them then!"

"Yes M. President!"

* * *

A phone rang in NDHQ's crisis room before being picked up by a staff member.

"M. Prime Minister, it's President Trump and his Cabinet."

"Put him on phone conference." Trudeau ordered with a hand gesture.

"M. Trudeau, we're ready to ship planes through!" Trump declared boastfully, "I think we've held back long enough."

"Glad to know you're alright." Trudeau responded kindly, noting that Trump was gung-ho as usual; the two world leaders had been whisked away separately..

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," Trump groaned, "We don't have time to waste! My boys and yours are already under threat with those flying ships off the coast of Tristain."

"I know. I've ordered reinforcements and supplies to be sent there," Trudeau calmly replied, "Queen Henrietta is also leading an investigation as well."

"Good, we're doing the same but I want retaliation. The American people want retaliation," Trump insisted.

"M. President, I think we need to decide, before any armed action, is whether or not we view this as an act of war." Pompeo said. The implications of a full blown war were numerous, to say nothing of the absurdity that the first openly declared war either nation had been involved in since WWII would be in a whole other world.

"Indeed Secretary Pompeo," Minister Freeland replied, "It is not something we can decide lightly."

"It's an act of war by all means, but it wasn't directed specifically at us." Pompeo pointed out to Trump who was fuming.

"There's gotta be something we can do to tell them that they've gone too far!" Trump insisted. In D.C, Mattis hung out of the conversation to take a call.

"Might I suggest aerial fly over of their capital?" Sajjan proposed, "Our jets will be probably be more than just intimidating to them. We can also conduct reconnaissance that way."

"Screw a fly over. I say we bomb that Palace Cromwell is sitting in while letting the people in his country starve."

"M. President, I just got off the phone with the British Defense Secretary. I believe he'll be calling you, M. Sajjan, next." Mattis spoke up. "They want in on whatever we're planning. They also wanted to be the ones to torch Cromwell's palace."

"That's some great news!"

"The Princes escape unharmed but her Majesty was quite angry at Oliver Cromwell according to Defense Secretary Williamson. She was quite horrified that someone attacked her grandsons and ruined Queen Henrietta's coronation," Mattis said, "She made a request to the British Armed Forces to not let this go unanswered."

"The whole Commonwealth has our backs on this," Minister Freeland added, "NATO's also meeting as we speak."

"That's good news," Trudeau said.

"We also got news that Queen Henrietta is personally leading the investigation efforts," Sajjin said this more for the Americans' benefit. "They're closing in on the suspect with their own forces and some of ours."

"That cleans up Tristain, but not Albion. The next few days are going to be very long." Trudeau stated, "If you'll pardon me but I'll have to call for an emergency meeting in Parliament."

"Very well M. Trudeau," Trump replied, "We'll continue this conversation once I'll land in Washington." They'd already agreed at least on reinforcing the garrisons in Tristain. The rest, though, would be discussed later.

* * *

Mott sighed happily as he sipped on a glass of wine. He'd enjoyed the last months of not having to work- a long break from his duties granted by the Justice Minister for his faithful service to the Kingdom. He had stayed at his mansions for weeks, enjoying good food, wine and women. The minister had even given him guards to ensure that he would be undisturbed by anyone.

His respite was suddenly broken when he heard loud roaring sounds outside. Looking out the window, the Count saw a long convoy of the Outworlders' war wagons.

"Guards?" he called out nervously, "What is happening?"

Mott heard running in the hallways but no answers. And then two guards came into the room. "What's is happening?" He repeated. The guards didn't answer. One locked the door, and the other lowered his weapon at the Royal Messenger.

* * *

As the convoy of armoured cars approached the manor, the lead vehicle's crew and passengers couldn't help but feel nervous. Something was clearly off.

A group of armed men formed up in front of the manor's gate. They were not expecting outworlders to show up. One of them shouted orders as they lowered their pikes threateningly. The lead vehicle slowed to a stop before them. They suddenly heard a familiar voice coming from one of the vehicles.

"This is Queen Henrietta! I demand that you let us through. This is a Royal Investigation! Anyone hindering us shall be punished accordingly."

The guards looked at each other in bewilderment. The Queen? She was supposed to be dead! Their master had said so. One nodded at another in silent understanding and started approaching the vehicle the Queen's voice had echoed from. He saw her through a window and drew his pistol. He fired- and the ball harmlessly bounced off the window.

"Contact!" One of the outworlders yelled. One of them, manning a massive musket mounted on one the carriages further back, took aim and opened fire on the guard, shredding his body to a bloody mess in seconds. Some of the musket-armed guards opened fire but their weapons did nothing but scratch the paint of the armoured cars.

Suddenly, all the carriages surged forward- right towards the grouped guards. Several were ran down as they smashed right through the front gate, their pikes shattering on impact with the heavy vehicles. Those who weren't were taken down by the carriage mounted muskets.

The long line of vehicles stopped inside the courtyard, disgorging not only North American Special Forces teams, but Henrietta, her mother, her two friends and over a dozen living Musketeers.

"Secure the building! Go! Go! Go!" The shout went out as they began storming the manor. Gunfire started ringing out shortly after, occasionally mixing with small explosions and bright flashes of light.

Tristain's new queen followed her allies and her troops into the vast house. Her stride was long, her face emotionless but hard. One hand stayed firmly on the hilt on the sword in her sheath. Being a ruler meant dealing harshly with traitors in your midst, and she fully intended to deal with this one. As they walked, they could see the traitorous guards lying dead. Several had been shot by muskets or stabbed by swords, but others had much cleaner holes drilled into their chests or foreheads. Whatever training the Americans and Canadians had… it was efficient. The manor had once again fallen silent save for the shouting of infantry from all three nations soldiers as they declared the area secured.

One of them walked up to Henrietta's party.

"Your Majesty! You won't believe what we've found!"

"Speak quickly."

"It's Count Mott," the man reported, "One of his guards tried to kill him as we got to his quarters."

"How is this possible?" Archduchess Marianne exclaimed, "He was imprisoned, was he not?"

"Mott will tell us how he got here." Henrietta stated firmly. If he'd turned the Justice Ministers troops against him, it was likely he had them bring him back to his manor.

Her and her entourage climbed the steps to Mott's quarters. They found the Royal Messenger dressed casually- and covered in the blood of one of his assassins. The Earth soldiers had forced the man to his knees.

"Princess Henrietta!" He exclaimed when he saw her. "Thank Brimir for you and the outworlders arrival. I was nearly-" His words died in his throat as Henrietta pulled her sword and held it an inch from his nose.

"What do you have to say in your defense traitor?!"

"T-traitor?" Mott spluttered, "W-what is the meaning of this?"

"The coronation was attacked by Albionian agents. You were the last person placed under arrest for colluding with Reconquista."

"Coronation? Arrest?" Mott was visibly confused.

"Minister Richemont had you arrested for treason because you supplied the date of our visit to Clément-sur-Mer to Cromwell's agents!"

"What?!" He sounded outraged. "I did no such thing!" He gulped as the blade pressed closer to his face. "Princess-"

"Queen." Henrietta corrected. "I was coronated earlier today."

"And I wasn't invited or told?!" Mott forgot his place and sounded insulted.

"You told Albion of it!" Henrietta accused.

"I did no such thing!" Mott shook his head desperately. "I've have been enjoying the half-year break from my duties you asked Minister Richemont to give me!" The room suddenly went deathly quiet. Henrietta's eyes, angry and focused, became wide.

"I never gave you any break from your duties," she stated quietly, her sword lowering slightly. True, she hadn't been using her Royal Messenger often- with the embassies and Earth technology, his services weren't as needed. But she certainly hadn't excused him either.

"That's impossible," Mott argued, "The Minister told me himself!"

Henrietta realized what this could mean. "Stand." She ordered, pointing her sword at him again. Mott slowly did so. "Tell us what Minister Richemont has said to you in the last months. Every word." She ordered.

* * *

Agnes had woken up not long after being moved to the Palace's vast medicine wing. Her Majesty had done a perfect job healing the wounds she'd suffered. They'd healed, but it didn't restore the Musketeer Captain's sapped energy.

Once she'd learned the Princess had left to investigate the traitor who'd organized the attack, she'd nearly forced herself from the bed with the intention of grabbing a horse and chasing after them. It had taken the urging of all the palaces water mages and even First Minister Delage, who'd stayed behind to manage the crisis while Henrietta went to pay blood for blood, to convince her to stay in bed. So that's what she did, although scarcely because she desired to do so.

' _Damn them. Damn them all!'_

The women had watched Henrietta for much of her early life. She was not like most nobles at all. She was kind. She was compassionate. She would go down in history as one of Tristain's greatest rulers. And they'd tried to kill her.

She heard strange chopping sounds from outside that reminded her of the outworlders' airships. Glancing out her window, Agnes noticed the American and Canadian soldiers disembarking from their helicopters… followed by people dressed in white clothes carrying boxes with them. The newcomers were running into the palace, a sense of urgency on their faces.

She could hear what some were saying. That they were hear to help. That they were healers from the armies and from a group of medical students.

Agnes was far from the only wounded person in the palace; there were dozens. The wing was full of people either moaning in agony or of doctors and water mages hurrying around. Cardinal Mazarin was going around and giving comfort or final rites in front of grief stricken relatives. Despite that, there was an extremely distinct sound that carried through the hall Agnes immediately picked up- singular footsteps. And not just any footsteps, the kind the American and Canadian soldiers' boots made.

But it was not a soldier that appeared at the foot of her bed, it was one of their spies dressed vaguely like a soldier. He even had one of their rifles on his back. He approached her bedside.

"You're Anges- the leader of the Queen's guards?" Anders asked quietly.

"Yes." She sat up.

"Can you stand?" He asked, and Agnes sensed urgency in his voice.

"I can." And she did just that, swaying slightly before righting herself. "Is something required of me?" The spy nodded.

"We're going to confront the man possibly responsible for the attack on the coronation. We want a Tristainian present as witness." Agnes' eyes widened.

"I will accompany you." She did not accept; she demanded.

"Good." The man nodded quietly and then did something strange- he handed her the pistol on his waist. "Only shoot it if you need to." He said as she marveled the object. "Come on." Agnes followed the man, and none of the healers questioned her being out of bed while she followed him. She saw another one of them pulling a wounded comrade of theirs out of bed and onto one of their stretchers. The man seemed to have suffered a head injury.

There were five more spies waiting outside, some dressed like soldiers and some in normal suits. All were armed. "We have her with us." The spy who'd retrieved her spoke into his instant communication device. "We're confronting the suspect now." He set it down and waved to the others. "Let's go!" They started moving, and Agnes followed.

"Who is responsible?" She asked.

"We think it might be Minister Richemont." He told her.

"The Justice Minister?" That was a daring accusation to make. Agnes wasn't a fan of the man, true; he'd been one of Henrietta's staunchest opposers while a member of the Regency Council. But he'd served King Henry and the Kingdom faithfully for years. "How did you come to suspect him?"

"As far back as the pirate attack. It struck us as suspicious he alone was not present when it happened. We watched him for a while, but couldn't find anything concrete. Just a lot of paperwork and social gatherings. Now his guards not only turned on the kingdom, but he was lucky enough not to be there either? It's too perfect."

"It is." Agnes agreed with cold anger as the possibilities dawned on her.

"We spotted him a few minutes ago coming to the palace. He hasn't gone to check if the queen if okay. In fact, he's packing up like he's going somewhere."

"That bastard." Agnes snarled.

"We have no idea who we trust right now. You're the only one here we can verify as loyal." The Capital was swarming with soldiers and nobles, but they'd come to her, a commoner. "Right now, we just want to know where he's been."

"He'll answer for more than that."

"Good."

As they exited the hospital wing, the agent gave her a crash course on the weapon, a SIG Sauer M17. Agnes could appreciate the fine workmanship put into the weapon… as well as the clear improvements over her old flintlock pistols.

The group moved hastily through the Royal Palace's busy hallways, radiating tense hostility.

* * *

Richemont was sweating profusely as he stumbled around his office, trying to gather all the sensitive papers and documents he had left there.

' _Damn it. DAMN IT!'_

Things were not going as planned. Henrietta and the rest of council was alive. The accursed Earth leaders and princes were still alive as well. Henrietta was not only queen, but now she had the whole kingdom rallying behind her in light of the attack. Richemont cursed the Earth media for showing it to everyone. Ha dared not imagine how the Earth leaders would react, remembering his little meeting with the American President earlier.

He grabbed as many documents as he could, hoping he could salvage the situation before Cromwell and Reconquista invaded. At the very least, he could escape retribution.

The crown… The crown was on that ridiculous brat's head now! It should have been his! He was the stronger leader! All his work had been for naught! Everything he did was ruined. He had been so close to getting his place in the sun, so close to ruling Tristain once Reconquista arrived. They'd promised him the throne once they took over. He cared not for their crusades or what else as long he ruled over Tristain.

Maybe...maybe it was still possible. The invasion was still coming, surely? He'd hide out till the Reconquista armies took over Tristain, and he'd still be the new king.

Right?

"Minister Richemont!" The voice was far too friendly in its tone for his liking.

He jumped and spun around. Standing in the hallway outside his office were several of the outworlder spies- and the still-living Captain of the Musketeers. Their strange weapons were drawn but aimed at the floor. The minister cursed that the fact that, in his panic-induced haste, he forgot to close the door.

"I hope you are doing fine? It has been a rather tiring day no?" the leader asked casually as he stared directly into the man's eyes.

"Yes." Richemont breathed out. His chest was heaving. His face covered in sweat. Even he knew how suspicious he looked.

How?! How had they figured out to approach him?

"I must admit that it must be tiring for a man of your age," Agnes commented, "All of that running around and fighting off assassins that passed off as your men."

"Yes, it was truly a difficult day," Richemont answered, still sweating, "One that was quite taxing."

"I did not see you at the front guarding the Queen." Agnes' eyes narrowed.

"I'm sure that Minister Richemont isn't quite a skilled fighter like you Captain Agnes. Not every man can be an example of courage and martial prowess," the agent commented politely and turned back to Richemont, "But you caused a lot of concern- no one could find you after the attack ended and we were quite worried you know?."

"Yes, well, I had to return and find out if anymore of my men were committing treason," Richemont argued, "We did not need anymore traitors wreaking havoc on us did we?"

"The Queen is looking for you- have you at least been to see her yet?" One of the agents asked.

"Yes, yes." He said impatiently, hoping to get them out of his hair quickly. "I spoke to her ten minutes ago about my efforts." They all glanced at each other, and Agnes' eyes narrowed dangerously. She suddenly strode into the office.

"You lying traitor!"

"What is the meaning of this?!" Richemont shouted back angrily as all of them suddenly intruded into his office, "How dare you insinuate such a thing?!"

"The Queen left over an hour ago to search Count Mott's property for clues on how Albion infiltrated the coronation!" Agnes snapped, and Richemont suddenly lost all his composure. His face went white. His hands started shaking as he braced himself on his desk with one hand.

"Where were you, really?" One of the agents asked. They all started to raise their weapons. Richemont knew that if the Queen found Mott alive at his home, they'd discover his lie. He mentally prayed that his men would buy him enough time and remove the Royal Messenger from the equation. He had to make it out of here before then, but that meant getting rid of these people. So he swallowed his pride and tried to lie his way out of it again.

"Oh fine." He sounded ashamed, his eyes downcast. "I...I fled and hid."

"Hid?" the agent asked, almost mockingly, "Really minister?"

"Y-yes," Richemont was acting as cowardly as he could, "I was afraid that the assassins would come after me so I-I ran for a secure hiding spot in the capital. I recognize the foolishness of my actions, but I am here now!" He insisted. If they imprisoned him for desertion, he was doomed.

"Where is this 'secure hiding spot'?" Agnes demanded. Richemont stammered as he tried to come up with a believable answer, but he was cut off.

One of the outworlders communication contraptions started blaring, a voice asking for a response from any American or Canadian assets still in the Capital. The agent answered, and an order blared out over the speaker for the entire room to hear.

"Search of suspect's property has revealed conflicting evidence. The Queen is returning to the Capital. She's ordered Justice Minister Pierre-Étienne de Richemont to be found and held until she arrives. Make contact with any local forces and get it done."

"That won't be necessary." The agent radioed back, eyes locked with Richemont's. All the guns were pointed at him now. "We're with the Captain of the Musketeers and the Justice Minister is right in front of us."

"Agnes?" Now it was Henrietta's voice on the radio.

"Yes your Majesty?"

"We've found Count Mott in his manor. His guards tried to assassinate him. Richemont has been lying to us. Do not let him escape."

"Yes, your Majesty." She called back. "He'll be bound in your throne room when you return-"

"This is preposterous!" Richemont's voice was hoarse. "I am being framed! Mott is the traitor!"

"Put your hands in the air. _Now!_ " The agent ordered as he gripped his weapon tightly.

"I've served this Kingdom for over 30 years! I was a faithful advisor to his Majesty King Henry during the hardest times of his reign!"

"And you will serve it and Queen Henrietta no longer." Agnes took a step towards him, pistol held out in front of her.

"DAMN ALL OF YOU OUTWORLDERS TO HELL!" Richemont pulled out his wand and threw a water spell at the group before him. A massive wave overtook the office, soaking countless papers and furniture and sloshing into the hallway. It also knocked the group on the ground. If their powder got wet, they couldn't shoot and he could have time to get a more powerful spell out. At least that's what he thought until a gunshot rang out. He didn't register anything else after the first bullet struck him dead center in the head. A few more rounds struck him before his body hit the ground.

"Goddamnit!" The lead agent swore as they picked themselves up. They'd hoped to restrain him- press him for information on Albion. He'd drawn too fast for them to react though. Agnes looked unconcerned with the corpse she'd just created, having managed to recover fast enough to get off the first shot.

"Is everyone ok over there?!" a voice came over the radio.

"Yeah we're fine. The bastard gave us a nice cool shower before going down though." the agent replied, "Tried to fight us with magic and escape but Captain Agnes put a stop to his crap."

"Dead?"

"Yes, unfortunately." The agent looked around the room. "Might've destroyed some evidence, too. But we'll search his office."

"Keep it locked down till we get back. Get the local forces to secure his residence too."

Agnes nodded.

"I'll task my Musketeers immediately." Agnes told the agents. Many had died today, but not all of them. "Do you want your pistol back?"

"Hang on to it for now." the agent said, "I'll take it back when everything's calmed down. Good shot by the way."

Agnes nodded.

"I will go summon a mage," she said, "They can use their magic to dry out the office quickly so we won't lose too much evidence."

"Right. Thanks." The agent nodded. The Musketeer Captain left. "What a fucking mess." The agent muttered, looking at Richemont's bullet-riddled corpse again.

* * *

Cromwell was in his quarters aboard the _Lexington_ , the last surviving ship of the line in Albion and proud flagship of the Reconquista fleet. It was going to be the ship leading the attack on Tristain's capital, but now it was flying back through the early morning darkness to bring Albion's ruler to the capital Londinium.

Oliver Cromwell, successful overthrower of the House of Tudor and the Lord-Protector of Albion was a mess. All his undertakings had been failures, and this was the biggest of all. It had been 18 hours since his assassins had failed Albion and the Founder. Tristain was on alert and would meet his armies head on if he still launched the invasion. It was by far his most spectacular failure against that tiny nation. Had he upset the Founder Brimir? Was he being punished for something?

"But Lord-Protector," Sheffield insisted, "We must still invade Tristain! Even if the assassination failed, Henrietta must be cowering in her palace right now!" He'd left the assembled armies with scarcely a word to fly back to the Capital. Sheffield had spent most of the flight trying to convince him to go back.

"All of Tristain is up in arms and ready to fight." Cromwell retorted, "What if her allies from the other world send more troops? There are no more words from my top spy- I can only assume he was been caught. We have no advantage."

"We have numbers! And the Founder's blessings."

The Founder's blessings. Something that Cromwell had during his revolution. The thing that had kept him going through hardship after hardship, failure after failure until the loyalist forces finally cracked. All the small miracles that he was sure could only be from Brimir himself.

But what did he have now? All these failures could only mean he'd lost divine favor, right?

His musings were interrupted when a knock came on his door. He ordered whoever it was to enter. It was the captain of the _Lexington_ with another man next to him. Both looked troubled.

"Lord-Protector, we've reached Londinium. There's something you must see." He insisted.

"What?"

The man next to the captain spoke.

"We do not know how but the Republican Palace has been burned to the ground during the night," he explained nervously, "All of the guards are dead as well!"

Cromwell's jaw almost dropped and he pushed past the men to reach the deck. The captain followed him. This was a calamity that he could not understand. Capturing the Palace had been one of the greatest moments of the revolution, the thing that did a large part to cement his legitimacy.

As he reached the deck, he could see smoke rising from the palace's site. The captain of the _Lexington_ handed him a telescope and Cromwell saw the disaster that had befallen him. Bright orange flames were visible at multiple points in the building. Parts of it had already collapsed. Even if they put out the fire, the Palace would never be usable again.

"Lord-Protector… has your faith in our Holy Founder wavered?" Sheffield's voice crept into his ears, almost taunting him.

"No," he vehemently denied, "It has not."

"Then why has Brimir cast this tragedy upon you? Upon Albion?" Sheffield challenged. Cromwell was silent but for a moment.

"This is a test of our faith in Him," he concluded, "A challenge for us. Something to avoid complacency."

The revolutionary leader wasn't sure if his words were meant to convince Sheffield or himself. He ordered the _Lexington_ to land as soon as they could and a carriage to be made ready for him. Riding through the streets, Cromwell did his best to maintain an aloof façade in front of his subjects, thousands of whom had taken to the streets to stare in horror and despair at the symbol of their country's new destiny being reduced to a pile of ashes.

Fear gripped the capital of the Holy Albion Republic as well… how had their Holy Founder not protected them against such a tragedy? The sinners had already been punished… did this mean that some still walked amongst the pious?

His carriage stopped at the Palace gate where he saw Water mages doing their best to contain the blazing fire. Viscount Jean-Jacques Wardes walked up to his leader, his face grim.

"Lord-Protector, we don't know happened. Whoever did this left almost no evidence of their presence and was skilled enough to have slain every guard without us knowing."

"Did you find anything Viscount Wardes?" Cromwell asked wearily. Wardes nodded and handed a small paper to his lord.

"We've found this note on your statue." A great one had been raised at the front of the palace to celebrate his victory.

Cromwell eyed it oddly before noticing the writing.

' _To M. Cromwell. Sorry we missed you.'_

 _P.S. Good tidings from the Queen._

He almost dropped it in shock. For a moment, he thought they meant Henrietta. But that couldn't be; only the outworlders' blasphemous means could've done this. His spy had mentioned one of their nations had a queen and that her grandsons were attending the coronation. They must've struck in the night.

"The outworlders have no respect for Brimir's wishes." Sheffield warned him. "Look at what they've done. They'll do this to all of Albion before too long." Then she drove her point home. "Unless you act."

Cromwell realized what this meant. The spying had by some miracle been overlooked, but the outworlders would not stand for this. They would come for vengeance. For him. For Albion. War had to be unavoidable now. And if he didn't go to them, then they would come to him. This was no longer a matter of the Founder- it was about his own life.

And if Brimir's favor returned to him for his daring, he could surely defeat Tristain regardless. And that portal...he need only destroy it. Surely the Founder wanted that too. He filled with resolve.

"Take me back to the Lexington!" He ordered the carriage driver.

* * *

Richemont had been the traitor, and Mott but a pawn and a possible scapegoat.

Yesterday, the Royal Messenger had blabbered on to them for hours like his life depended on it. It very well might have.

As it turned out, Richemont had talked to Mott as soon as he came back from Canada, before he even talked to Henrietta. The Justice Minister had been secretly funneling information on the kingdom's happenings to Albion, disguised as his normal paperwork. They'd found drafts he meant to send to prove as much. Sadly, the way he got them to Albion had been lost with his life.

Some vestige of Albion spies or traitors may have remained in Tristain. Agnes suspected hidden a secret network of traveling pigeons, but there was no way to know for sure..

Once the Americans and Canadians had started helping her sort out corruption, Richemont had taken steps to set up Mott as someone to take the fall in case it was realized Albion knew things only a Tristainian could know. He'd even had men watching him on his behalf. The Justice Minister and Royal Messenger had been friends for years, the elder man publicly setting up Mott as his successor. But rather then bring him to his cause, Richemont had set him up as a potential sacrifice. Mott had been aghast when he realized the betrayal and collapsed in shock.

Speaking of the Royal Messenger, he was under house arrest. Official house arrest. True, it was apparent he'd been set up, and they'd turned his house over without finding anything, but the simple fact was they couldn't confirm if he was really trustworthy. And that weighed heavy on Henrietta on top of all the other happens of the moment, like the fact Albion was massing troops at the border.

War had always been a possibility, but now it seemed to be inevitable. It was the future she'd hoped to avoid when she'd made friends with the world on the other side of the portal.

"Good morning your Majesty," Lord Richardson said kindly as he entered Henrietta's throne room, "I hope that you've slept well despite yesterday's unpleasantness." The Queen had not slept at all, actually, but she stayed polite.

"Unfortunately, it was not a restful night," she answered, fatigue evident in her voice.

"My apologies your Majesty," Richardson replied, bowing his head. "I have something that may restore your spirits on this peaceful morning though."

He handed her his phone.

"Hello?"

"Good morning Queen Henrietta," a regal voice said, "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Elizabeth the Second, by the Grace of God of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and of Her other Realms and Territories Queen, Head of the Commonwealth, Defender of the Faith."

Henrietta straightened out upon hearing the impressive title.

"Your Majesty, I am Queen Henrietta I of the Blessed Realm of Water, Tristain."

"It is a pleasure to finally speak with you," Queen Elizabeth II replied, "Queen Henrietta."

"The feeling is mutual Queen Elizabeth."

"I wish to congratulate you on your coronation and ascension to the throne," the British monarch said warmly, "It is quite a shame that such a special day be ruined by a despicable rascal. Were many of your subjects harmed?"

"Sadly, many were. Some of the greatest and most beloved families in the kingdom."

"On behalf of the House of Windsor and the Commonwealth, I offer you my condolences on the loss of life, Queen Henrietta."

"Thank you, I will tell those concerned."

"You're welcome. Oliver Cromwell's attack on your coronation is quite shocking for me and many other monarchs on Earth," Queen Elizabeth elegantly explained, "Not only did he have the appalling audacity to ruin such an important moment in a young woman's life but also threatened the lives of my family. It was unacceptable that my realm remained idle."

"What do you mean?" Henrietta was perplexed. When the other queen spoke again, her voice had a tone of mischievousness.

"Some of our nation's finest men paid his home a little visit last night. Could you please hand back Lord Richardson's phone?"

Henrietta did so. The ambassador played around his menus a bit before showing her a picture. It was a large, burning building. The Tristainian queen thought it looked vaguely familiar.

"Prime Minister May and I requested that our finest men show the United Kingdom's displeasure to M. Cromwell."

Henrietta caught on.

"Your men burnt down his palace?" she asked, slightly giddy. At the same time, it was a sad moment. The Palace had been Wales' beloved home where she had spent happy moments in their youth. Better for it to burn though than be a trophy for a murderer and usurper.

"Indeed. I hope that M. Cromwell understands that his behavior is unacceptable," Queen Elizabeth added before Lord Richardson swiped to another picture. It was a statue of Cromwell- no doubt some vanity erected after his victory- with its head cleanly torn off.

"It seems our men wanted to have some fun of their own before leaving."

Henrietta smiled for the first time since the coronation.

"I thank you for your kindness and generosity, your Majesty."

"Your Majesty, it is the least I could do. Your kingdom has been a wonderful kingdom to negotiate with and my grandsons have nothing but good words about their stay and their meeting with you. They also have great faith in you and your future."

"Words cannot convey my gratitude but I wish for our nations to become greater friends."

"I wish the same. I will leave you to your duties but I wish you good fortune in these dire times."

"Thank you." Henrietta said. The call ended, and she got back to the matter at hand.

* * *

There's a phenomenon in political science called the rally effect- a population will rally around a leader and their approval will increase in times of crisis or war. It was part of the reason why dictators were more prone to starting wars. It was rarer in democracies, but it still happened.

The United States was seeing the same thing happening. Ever since the first images of the attack reached the living rooms of America, to seeing their president return with a suit covered in blood and brain matter, the American people were seething with anger.

Pro-American and pro-Trump supporters gathered outside the White House showing their support for both, much like people had done to celebrate the death of Bin Laden. The Pentagon and State Department had all made statements, but the people wanted to hear from their president himself.

Nearly 24 hours after leaving the cathedral, recuperating with a full days rest and some time with his family, President Trump finally appeared in public again to address the nation and the American people. He was going to tell them what had happened and, after hours of deliberation with both his own people and the Canadian government, what would happen.

"I'm very happy with what I've seen today!" He declared as the stood behind the podium. "Americans standing up and acting outraged, as they should! The whole country should be outraged! A cowardly terrorist attack! That is what this was!" Trump paused for a moment.

"Before I go on, I want to take a moment to thank the brave men and women of the Secret Service and our Armed Forces for their work. It is because of them I am still here to speak to you and that these animals got what they had coming." He paused again to let that slightly brutish tribute sink in.

"These animals thought that they could intimidate me and the American people. They were wrong. They have only angered us! America has never allowed itself to be threatened or intimidated by animals!"

"These people want war. They want to harm innocent people. They want to put themselves on our doorstep, but we will not let them! We will hold them back, and we will destroy any ability to have to harm us." He let that ominous warning hang in the air.

"We are sending more troops into Tristain." He admitted. "But we are not alone. We will stand beside Canada. Our allies are for once willing to put in their share of work and have pledged to support us."

The fact was, behind the scenes, it had been agreed not to escalate this into a NATO conflict. For one, it would take focus away from Eastern Europe, which no nation wanted. Secondly, the treaty obligation hadn't been invoked. It had taken hours of discussion, and a few of arguing, but the US and Canada had mutually agreed not to consider the attack as an act of war, and they were going to relay as much to the rest of the world.

There was talk of Commonwealth involvement, but that was possibly weeks away. Right now, it was American and Canadian troops on the front lines. Although Trump and Trudeau had been briefed on the British SAS mission into Albion the previous night, one supported by American and Canadian resources. It had been planned and executed on short notice, but it had had the desired effect.

"If they don't want to fight, good for them. But if they do," Trump's tone was ruthless, "we will not hesitate to destroy them."

Trump's speech was decisive, and there was hardly a middle ground. A lot of Americans were all for it, loudly cheering or praising the news. Others approved for no other reason than keeping that world out of their own. A lot shook their heads and decried the President as warmongering; many such people had actually been _hoping_ Trump wouldn't survive the attack. But at the end of the day, one fact was clear:

The majority of America was ready and willing to fight.

And the kicker was, even with Republicans having a narrow majority after the recent midterms, he still might've been able to get a declaration of war from Congress if he wanted.

* * *

In Canada, the same thing had happened preceding the Prime Minister's first address since returning. Trudeau had received calls from all the provincial prime ministers as well as calls from all the opposition leaders asking if he was well. Whether it was a political maneuver or genuine solidarity, they had all pledged to put aside their differences for the time being and work together to resolve this crisis.

The Canadian people held their collective breath as they waited for their Prime Minister to speak. The cameras were focused on Parliament Hill despite the cold winds. Finally, a somber looking Trudeau walked onto the podium.

"My fellow Canadians. I am speaking to you at a moment of grave crisis, when violent and fanatical men are attempting to destroy the unity and the freedom of Canada and Tristain. Much has happened in the past two days. Queen Henrietta's coronation was attacked by terrorists backed by Reconquista and fuelled by the hateful rhetoric of Oliver Cromwell. It saddens me to tell you that many innocents have perished or have been grievously wounded by this savage attack. Luckily, thanks to the heroic exploits of our men and women as well as our allies, this barbaric act was defeated before further innocent blood was spilt."

Trudeau paused briefly to recompose himself.

"Like in the past, Canada and its people shall always stand alongside its allies to fight against aggression and oppression. I am thankful that M. Scheer and M. Singh have pledged to work together with me in this time of crisis. As befitting of true Canadians, we have put aside our differences for a common, noble goal; the defense of peace and freedom. As much as we would've wished otherwise, it would seem conflict is upon us. Albion and its ruler have decided that they do not respect life, or respect peace. They have chosen aggression and we must them understand that Canada will not be idle while they attack not only our friends, but us ourselves as well."

His tone was somber as he continued his speech.

"We still diligently hope that peace can be preserved. But if it can not, we, as Canadians, are ready to stand against the madness of Oliver Cromwell and Reconquista. There will be no war yet. We will not let these attempts to provoke us succeed. We will remain steadfast in our defense of our allies and of our borders."

"We will be not alone in this endeavour as the Commonwealth and NATO have pledged to support us in our efforts. With them at our side, we stand resolute in defending the great values on which our nation has been founded and in which we believe."

"Already, we are reinforcing our holdings in Tristain and I have called for an emergency session of Parliament later today about our course of action. Special measures have already been enacted in Quebec to ensure our citizens' safety with the help of Prime Minister Legault as well as allowing the Canadian Armed Forces to act quickly in case of emergency. I appeal to all Canadians not to become so obsessed by what the government has done today in. Oliver Cromwell and his followers have led an unprovoked attack on an innocent people on an important day of their nation. We must not forget that they chose the opening play in this vicious game. They chose to use deceit and murder. We are merely responding to their aggression."

Many of Trudeau's detractors, mainly the conservative voters were surprised that he was taking a firm stance. His voters were quite pleased with his stance however. Others, mainly fringe groups, were horrified. This was warmongering that only served to advance the United States and Canada's interests. Others, especially in Quebec, were afraid of martial law, something that had gripped the province the October Crisis. Both civil rights defenders and businessmen were afraid of such a prospect.

* * *

The merchants had been made to clear out around the portal. Most had left on their own anyway once the military activity increased. Most of the scientific parties were leaving as well though many of the medical groups insisted to stay and help.

Huynh watched as the last business group left through the portal while the men from his platoon moved into their fighting positions. Taking a glance at the Academy, he could see carriages leaving. No doubt that the nobles wanted their children safe from harm… or in the front lines alongside them. The Academy was an international institution, so no doubt a few of them would be fleeing for the border. Tristanian troops were already manning its walls while the professors who'd chosen to stay were using their magic to reinforce its defenses.

But the American and Canadian troops? They were staying. Reinforcements would be coming through the portal soon, at first from Canada and in a day or two from America. The familiar sound of a southern drawl caught Huynh's attention.

"You Canucks heard the rumours?" Trombley asked. The American Lieutenant was fully kitted as well.

"Which ones?"

"The British are coming."

"Damn."

As he finished saying that, loud rumbling came from the portal. Both looked over and saw a convoy of LAV-III's and trucks emerging from it. Rather than stop, some of the LAV's headed out away from the portal. They went down the road and off into the distance.

"Must be reinforcing the base by the coast." Huynh remarked.

"Yup."

"Any idea who else is coming Stateside?" Huynh asked, "I know that 3rd Battalion's coming in with their choppers later today." In the way Canadian Army units were structured, the 3rd Battalion was the air assault element in each brigade. With the risk of an invasion coming to any part of the country, that mobility was the best option.

Trombley placed his hand on his chin.

"Hell, they might just send the whole 2nd brigade through." Of the roughly 400 American soldiers in Tristain, all were drawn from the 10th Mountain Division based out of New York."

"Whatever happens man, we'll be fine," Huynh quoted with an evil grin as he remembered an old quote from Earth, "For we have got the machine-gun and them not."

"You got that right." There were three American M2 Browning mounted on tripods at the checkpoint- it'd worked for low flying aircraft 70 years ago and it could work for dragons now. Not to mention the plethora of automatic weapons in each infantry squads as well as mortars, command and control, superior marksmanship and range.

They outclassed Albion in practically every single way. And with the reinforcements coming through, their edge would be supplemented by numbers.

The Earth forces could go into battle with faith they'd wipe the floor with Albion.

* * *

While these speeches happened, across various military installation all across North America, the troops had been on alert. Weapons and vehicles were being cleaned, inspected and fine tuned by their users as they awaited further orders. Men who were at home waited for their call to rejoin their units, their loved ones anxiously standing next to them. Others had already returned to their stations in anticipation of things to come.

In Tristain, banners flew proudly over camps where footmen, cavalrymen and battlemages rallied. The sound of weapons being sharpened over grindstones mixed with quartermasters counting their supplies.

Brimiric priests and military chaplains led their men in prayer for swift victories and a safe homecoming on both sides of the portal.

People on both sides were expecting conflict. Tristain had been expecting for over a year now, and the day seemed to be fast approaching. In North America, people were expecting retaliation for the attempt on US and Canadian lives and that they'd have to fight to keep chaos spilling over from the other world into theirs. To both sides, there was a sense you were fighting to keep your home safe.

The military prep wasn't limited to North America or Halkegenia. In the UK, the Army's Parachute Regiment was preparing for a possible deployment while the units at the British Army Training Unit Suffield were gearing up as well. This wasn't just about the attempt on the princes' lives or an alternate universe Cromwell. Canada was one of the biggest members of the Commonwealth afterall and the two nations enjoyed a long history together in peace and in war. If an invasion of Tristain did occur, then Canada would be at risk.

Australia had was also preparing. Aside from being a Commonwealth state too, the Australians were more than willing to help Canada. Both nations came of age in the hellish landscapes of WWI and had fought many battles alongside each other against long odds ever since.

The UN meeting also took place. While the international consensus was the US and Canada had a right to defend themselves, certain voices still considered that the North American nations were getting involved in things they shouldn't. Russia had accused the two countries of bringing instability to another world, claiming that they weren't just content of stirring chaos on Earth but that they just had to worsen things in another world.

The envoys from North America reaffirmed their commitment to purely defensive action, although the US insisted that it would take whatever actions necessary to protect its people.

But the whole world was sure now- there was going to be an armed conflict.

* * *

Both leaders' speeches concluded at roughly the same time, and they stepped down to return to their duties. There was still a lot to do: meetings with allies, further meetings with each other and Tristain to manage their response, and neither would forget they still had to run their countries while facing this threat.

Both Trump and Trudeau were both walking back to their offices when they were approached urgently by their aides. And less than a minute apart, both men were told the same thing:

Albion had started to invade Tristain.

 **Author's endnote: I must admit that the assassins getting that close to both Trudeau and Trump is quite farfetched but it was a bit of creative liberties meant to have an awesome moment.**

 **Despite paranoia, secret services are manned by people and people don't always get everything right...**

 **Hope you guys enjoyed reading this chapter! As always read and review.**


	13. Chapter 11: Don't start a fight

**Disclaimer: FoZ/ZnT belongs to the departed Noboru Yamaguchi and whoever inherited the I.P. Any real life organisation/person is merely being used in a fictional non-profit way.**

 **Author's note: Kudos to Trainalf for co-authoring and TundraFox for writing Trudeau's speeches. Longest chapter yet too… with 20k words!**

 **Hope you guys enjoy reading this as much we did writing it.**

 **Don't start a fight you can't finish**

"Multiple contacts incoming!" Joint Base Clément-sur-Mer had kept vigilant watch for close to a day, and the enemy was finally making their move.

The first indication had been updates every half hour repeating the same thing: that troops were embarking. Cannons, horses, and all manners of supplies. For hours even after the coronation, troops were still embarking. The ones that had stopped halfway towards them stayed there for nearly an entire day. If there were dragons on there, they must've been pretty restless.

Finally, after thousands of troops had to have embarked, the ships started to leave their ports. There was no hesitation- they immediately reported an enemy invasion. The response was immediate: "Defend your position, reinforcements are coming."

The invasion fleet was massive, not only by medieval standards, but even some Earth standards. Just over 90 ships total, by the radar's count, arranged in three large groups and three smaller detachments. That largest one looked it would be bypassing them in the south on a direct route to the capital. The smallest of the large groups was going around their north. And the last large group was heading straight for them, eventually meeting up with the three ships that had journeyed half way earlier and continuing together.

It still took the ships hours to reach them, five in fact. In that time, a company of Canadian mechanized infantry arrived at the base from the portal. The IFVs and their auto cannons would be a welcome defense. More infantry and air assets would be coming soon.

Because of their warning, Tristainian forces were mobilizing and rallying at the capital, the most likely point for invasion, although there were smaller deployments elsewhere. They had marked on the radar a small friendly battle group of Tristainian airships about 100 miles to their south on transport duties.

Speaking of airships, there was one right above Joint Base Clément-sur-Mer. There was another crew training here, nearly at the end of the course, and their frigate had been docked here. As soon as what was happening became evident, they boarded their ship and returned to the skies.

Men took shifts in staying on alert and power napping to regain their energy. One thing was for sure- battles were a lot slower here then on Earth.

"Contacts 20 miles out." It was nearly time. And then something peculiar happened- the bulk of the fleet stopped, and a single ship continued forward. The base commander was sure it would be a scout. Then as the base's CCTV got a view of it, they noticed a white flag prominently waving at the front of it. It was a small ship, a frigate of different design from either Tristain or pirates.

"I think we'd be too optimistic if we assumed that entire fleet was going to surrender." Harper deadpanned.

"It's a flag of truce then. They'll want to try dialogue before fighting."

"We're not going to surrender. But we'll let them talk. We can buy some time for reinforcements to arrive." Hamilton decided. He gave the stand down order and ordered the _Intrepid_ to help it dock.

Now to see what bullshit they'd be offered.

* * *

The Albion envoy was escorted through the base by two Canadian soldiers. The simply dressed man was blindfolded as while he was being led. No one needed him to see how the base worked. The man could hear the sounds of boots and strange rumbling but it wasn't enough in his mind. He heard a door open and felt a change in the air. It was pleasantly warmer than the cool Tristainian spring air. After moments of walking on a solid floor, the envoy felt the blindfold being removed from his eyes.

In front of him was a small white table and two men dressed in the outworlders' uniforms sitting behind them. Two very distinct uniforms. They stared back at him hard and unflinching. The envoy cleared his throat before introducing himself.

"Greetings, I am Lord Charles Winston of Lancaster. I have been sent with a message from Oliver Cromwell, Lord-Protector of the Holy Republic of Albion."

"Greetings Lord Lancaster," one of them said, "I'm Colonel Benjamin Hamilton of the United States Army."

"I am Colonel James Roberts of the Canadian Armed Forces. We are quite pleased and surprised to meet you Lord Lancaster."

There was nothing in their tone that betrayed surprise.

"I hope our men weren't too rough with you," Hamilton asked with fake concern, "They are quite disciplined but sometimes we slip up."

Lord Lancaster politely shook his head.

"I was quite pleased with my treatment," he answered civilly.

"Splendid," Colonel Roberts asked, "Would you like some refreshments?"

Lancaster was weary of this. Who knew if these outworlders wouldn't poison him? It was something unheard in Halkegenia, such a thing being dishonourable but who knew how the other world worked?

"I hope you don't think we'd poison you Lord Lancaster," Roberts suddenly said, "We are civilized and such a thing would be unacceptable."

"Very well, I would like some water."

"One of my men will return with some soon," Hamilton said, "But onto business now."

"Yes," Lancaster replied as he produced a roll of paper and began reading from it.

 _I, Oliver Cromwell, Lord-Protector of the Holy Republic of Albion, demand:_

 _-That the leaders of this outpost surrender it to the Blessed Fleets and Armies of the Republic._

 _-That them and their men castaway their blasphemous beliefs and join us in worship of the Holy Founder according to Lord-Protector Cromwell's teachings._

 _-That they and their men surrender their weapons and airships intact to the Holy Republic as well as providing instructions on their usage and construction._

 _-That them and their men join our ranks in battle against the false teaching of the Romalian Church and in our crusade against the blasphemous Elves that inhabit the Holy Lands that were lost to us._

 _In exchange, any who join us shall be granted immunity from any reprisals from Reconquista and be allowed the same privileges as any men serving in its Blessed Navy and Armies._

"Interesting terms," Roberts replied once the envoy had finished reading the message.

"By 'same privilege', what do you mean exactly milord?" Hamilton asked curiously, leaning in closer.

"You will be allowed to bask in the spoils of war," Lancaster replied, "A share of the riches we will get from the Tristainian coffers and lands. Gold, crops, brides, and whatever else you may desire."

"I… see. Can you guarantee the proper treatment of my men?" Hamilton pressed, "I do not wish to see my men getting punished by your leaders."

"The Republic rewards those that serve them well," Lancaster answered as a soldier poured a glass of water in front of him, fully expecting these men to capitulate.

"Sorry but no," Roberts answered dryly, "I don't believe you have anything we can possibly want."

"If anything," Hamilton added firmly, "We should be the ones asking _your_ surrender."

Lancaster spluttered before he could drink his glass of water and looked at them in shock.

"Surely, you jest! We outnumber you!"

"We are very serious," Roberts shot back, "We will not surrender this base to M. Cromwell."

There was clear disdain in his voice as he said the Albion leader's name.

"You can tell all those troops you have that they are free to attack this base if they want, but they will die doing it." The envoy turned a shade of angry red.

"You are foolish to stand in the path of Brimir's chosen!" the envoy snarled, "Our faith will guide us to victory over you and your misguided ways!"

"I'd like to test that," Roberts replied, "Now please get out of here."

The envoy allowed himself to be blindfolded again and led out. After a few moments, Devers entered the room, a serious look on his face.

"You got all that Devers?" Hamilton asked.

"Yeah and I didn't like what I heard from that bastard. Same demands they're likely to give the Queen."

"Son of a bitch."

The three men agreed as they exited the room and returned to the nerve center of the base.

"Get the Blackhawks airborne. I want them to engage any airships that approach us." That was their air superiority strategy. The land-based C-RAMs and the machine guns mounted on the Canadian helicopters could tear into a ship, sure, but the Hellfires would be able to destroy them miles away. And after the last attack they'd been allotted over two dozen of the missiles. The question was: could the helicopters keep rearming fast enough to make a dent in the fleet out there. There was only one way to know for sure.

The ship carrying the envoy left and within 15 minutes was back with the larger fleet, which had notably spaced out since coming to a stop. And just a few minutes after that the battle truly began as the mass began to approach them. At a few miles out, the first shots were fired.

"Multiple small contacts incoming- dragons."

"The _Intrepid'_ s captain wants to know if his ship can engage immediately colonel," a radio operator reported. Colonel Hamilton made his way to the radio and grabbed the handpiece.

"Intrepid, this is command!," he said. They were very familiar with modern military communication. "You have permission to engage once we've destroyed their ships."

"Thank you command."

"Be careful out there Captain! I don't want your boys falling out of the skies when you've just finished training."

"No problems command, we'll take care of ourselves," the voice boasted.

"Happy hunting Intrepid!"

"You too."

Klaxons rang in the base while announcers warned of imminent air attack. The Canadian and American soldiers turned their eyes to the skies from their fighting positions and trenches. They saw dozens of dragons being ridden by knights, bearing down on them.

Three dozen exactly; 12 from each ship. On each wind dragon's back was a triangle or square class mage- the very best dragon riders in all of Albion. Wind dragons were fast, but they couldn't breathe fire. That meant all the fighting had to be done by their riders. Each rider was a skilled mage to compensate.

All of them made a direct break for the two Blackhawks that had pulled back slightly so they weren't in the base's anti-air zone; couldn't risk friendly fire. They'd been told of the outworlders' fearsome airships and the wrought they could bring to a larger airship. A few made for the Tristainian airship too, although they did not intend to stay long.

As they dove towards their targets, they could hear loud horns followed by a loud, continuous roar that resembled musket fire filled their ears. Some pulled out of their dives but others flew into a streak of light that tore them to shreds, sending mount and rider tumbling in pieces from the skies. Others watched as streaks of smoke from the ground suddenly charged after them before exploding when they got close. A quarter of their number wiped out in under a minute. Was this the outworlders' power?

Several flew by the _Intrepid_ , some blasting off spells at the ship's deck.

"Ready… aim… fire!" .

A volley of gunfire from the Tristainian naval infantry flew through the air as the passing riders followed by a few spells. They didn't expect them to do much to the hard scaly dragons, but there was always the hope they'd hit a rider or soft dragon flesh and wing. And their hope was well founded- at least one dragon rider slipped from his mount, and one dragon suddenly roared in pain before jerking and flying erratically.

There was one other notable Albion casualty- a heavy chain hurled by a crew member spun through the air before colliding with an Albion mage's head. The heavy iron wrapped around it instantly and he was knocked from his mount. Other snags and nets were thrown, but without success.

But there was casualties on the ship too- a fire spell hit a cannon and its crew, killing and grievously burning the gunners as well as starting a small fire. Luckily, their fellow crew members were quick to save the wounded and put out the fire before it got out of hand.

By virtue of speed and numbers, some did manage to get close enough to the outworlder airships to cast magic. These were powerful? They hadn't tried to attack them in the slightest. They cast off wind and fire spells, hoping to either burn or push the foreign airships away. To their amazement, the airships nimbly dodged the spells. As one wind dragon passed the side of the airship, more streaks of light emerged from the side and hid the dragon's flank. The beast cried in pain and fell to the earth. It's rider managed to cast a levitation spell to keep himself from crashing into the ground. As he landed on the ground, he breathed a small sigh of relief.

It was his last breath as an unseen force suddenly struck his chest repeatedly. His felt a brief feeling of pain, and then nothing. He was dead before his body finished falling. The infantry unit that had downed him from over 100 meters away sent out a message warning that the riders could safely float down.

The last dragon riders finally broke off their attack, their spirits crushed by the terrifying might of the outworlders. Barely ten of them limped back to their launching ships.

Even though the dragons had failed, the ships were still heading for land to start disgorging troops. Most of them were two or three miles away from the perimeter- what they thought was safe range.

Unfortunately, it was still within the 5 mile range the Hellfire missile boasted. The aerial threats dealt with, the Blackhawks returned to their unusual anti-air role. They took aim at the largest of the slow moving ships coming in to the north and south already low to the ground. 4 missiles per helicopter, 8 total. 8 Albion airships crashed to the ground in flames before they could even drop off their troops. Nearly a third of the invasion force.

Unfortunately for the Earth forces and fortunately for the Reconquista troops, the helicopters had to land and rearm. The CH-146s took off as the Blackhawks landed to keep up some form of air support. The lighter helicopters flew circles above the base's fortifications, weapons ready to help repel any assault. The airships continued their descent, although a few made as if to land in the east instead.

In the back of the base, one of the airships flew over a portion of the concrete runway, its Captain tempted by it as a landing zone. For its intrusion, vehicle mounted .50 cals raked the ship's' bottom, punching through the wooden bottom, causing chunks of wood to fall off. Screams of injured and panicked men came from the hold as others ran out topside.

"Captain!" a panicked crewmember reported aboard the damaged ship, "The last volley almost hit the windstones!"

The captain's eyes widened as he heard the report.

"Dammit! Get this ship away from here!" he ordered, "Turn us around! We'll fly away from the outpost and meet up with the rest of the squadron."

As the ship flew back towards the sea, a CH-146 approached at a higher altitude. Automatic gunfire poured down onto the deck. Men scrambled into position, trying to bear their muskets on the newcomer. The door mounted minigun however tore through the deck crew and sowed panic amongst them. The helicopter broke off as the airship got enough of a distance away, but it had left it nearly crippled as many of its men and officers lay dead or injured on her ruined deck. Her masts were also broken or close to breaking while small fires had erupted.

The Blackhawks were done rearming after only 3 minutes. They'd only needed as long as it took for the aircraft crew to come back out from taking cover from raining dragon giblets. The deadly black helicopters rose back into the sky once more.

But the Albion airships were already unloading. They hurried to ground when they realized they could still be hit- and one panicking crew actually crashed trying to set theirs down. Its wooden hull cracking and breaking against the earth as it came in too fast for landing.

Footmen were fleeing from the ships as soon as they were close enough it was practical, scurrying down netting or hurrying down ladders and ropes and running as far away from the ships as they could. But at least a few men were too quick- a few broke their legs, some their necks.

The ships carrying cavalry were having a harder time. They had to lead the large beasts down the long ramp one by one, and the trained animals were nonetheless nervous just from how panicked the people around them were. And the crew had a good reason- they'd be on the ground the longest.

None of the artillery had been hit yet; the ships carrying them had the forethought to be positioned behind other ships, and the Blackhawks had fired at what was in the front. But they'd have just as hard a time too. Unloading heavy cannon was a difficult business,

The Blackhawks picked their next targets and fired again. Eight more ships perished, some carrying men and others horses. The warhead on a Hellfire missile wasn't actually that large- only around 20 pounds. But it was enough to set off the powder stores inside the airship. Footmen continued to flee, and riderless horses ran free in whatever direction they could as another ship's powder store detonated behind them. Shrapnel rained down from above. Black smoke billowed into the sky, obscuring both sides.

That was 16 ships now, over half of the fleet. Of the 4,000 troops that had been on those ships, under 700 had made it off at all, and not all of them combat capable. Some that weren't killed or injured had gotten off without their weapons. Some were rendered deaf by being too close to an explosion.

They still held the numerical advantage over their enemy, or so they thought. Men wheeled their heavy cannon as fast as they could with many footmen helping their artillerymen with the arduous task. If they could pummel the base, they could disable whatever resupplied those infernal airships. Others were trying to calm the panicked horses as best they could.

Once more, the Blackhawks had to land to rearm themselves with more Hellfires. Inside the base, the Colonels were watching how things had unfolded already. They'd gotten troops to ground. It couldn't be helped; there was no way they could have caught all the ships in the air. They didn't see any major threat in the assembled force. They could decimate any footmen or cavalry that approached.

Meanwhile, radio operators were relaying the situation back to Earth.

Through their binoculars, the Americans and Canadians could see fluttering banners as their enemy, dressed in light brown-yellow clothes and light armour began to form up. Pikemen began to march, their pikes raised proudly towards the sky while musketeers shouldered their muskets. Drums, horns and flutes played to relay the orders of the battlemages that served as officers for their army. It was, despite the chaotic landings, a magnificent sight. Hooves stomped the group as horsemen pushed their mounts forward. In the back, a general was surveying the deployment before him while his aides dispatched messages to the various captains. His men were moving to encircle the enemy's fortress.

The cannons could fire over their heads, so they were moving in a way that would allow them to be in front of the cannons and defend them from enemy attack. The Albion cannon were being dragged as fast as they could. They had to get closer to the base before they were in range.

The Blackhawks took to the skies yet again armed and ready. And this time, they spotted the massive cannons. There was a slight delay as they asked for prioritization; which was the bigger threat: the ships, or the cannons?

The ships got lucky and none fell with the next Hellfire salvo. Instead, every single one of the eight massive siege guns Albion had brought were destroyed.

The Albion commanders saw this, and were left stunned.

"How is this possible?!" the lord in charge of the siege cried out, "This is a calamity!" The wind dragons and the cannons- both of the major assets of this attack- were decimated with the support ships badly mauled as well.

"We must press on the attack milord," one of his captains declared, "If we can close fast enough, our mages and men will overwhelm their musketeers with cold steel and magic."

Raising his telescope, he could see small, dug-in earth works that were sparsely manned. He'd been briefed on the pirate that had attacked this place- there was more to their defenses then that. But those had been pirates- rabble. Not a well trained and faithful host blessed by the Founder.

"Yes, yes splendid," he muttered to himself before turning to his subordinates, "We shall begin our attack then! I want a advance with full cadence. Send word to the other groups so our advance is simultaneous!"

"What of the fleet, Lord Ravenshill? Admiral Abottsforth wishes to retreat. His ships and the Dragon knights have taken severe damage," the navy messenger reported, "He fears that he is of no help."

"The outworlders' airships cannot be contended with. Let them join the rest of the fleet. If possible, request more reinforcements and supplies from our Lord-Protector if he can spare them. We can overcome them. Brimir will shield his faithful."

"Yes milord!" With that, the navy messenger departed with a quick trot of his pegasus.

Meanwhile, the rest of the army was closing the gap with greater speed, having been ordered to hasten their pace. It was almost 15 minutes after they had begun to march, during which the airships had departed but not without the cursed outworlder airships destroying more of them, that the Reconquista troops began to hear whistling. Explosions began to erupt in their ranks, tearing mercilessly through armour and flesh. Mages began to chant various spells to shield their men from the bombardment. Wind Mages threw up wind barriers to buy time while Earth Mages raised the ground to provide a moving earth shield.

It didn't stop every mortar shell… but it was better than nothing as they slowly encircled the base. It was an exhausting effort for the mages as it demanded a lot of power to maintain these shields as they flickered on and off.

Suddenly, musket fire rang out from the trenches surrounding the base. Men screamed in agony and shock as the first ranks got cut down… at a much faster rate than anything they had witnessed during the battles against the Tudor Loyalists. But they marched on under the fire. More men fell. Officers, musicians, standard bearers and mages began to fall as well. No one knew if it was an order or just cowardness, but a single man broke, and suddenly the entire line did too.

"Retreat! We cannot stay here!"

The sound of weapons clattering signalled that this was anything but an orderly retreat but a rout.

"Nooo! Don't leave us here!"

This happened to all three advances. The cavalrymen tried to dash forward… only to break as their mounts panicked from the concentrated fire. Some were thrown off their horses while others were pinned underneath their dead stallions. The screams of the dying and wounded resonated over the battlefield to the horror of the general in charge of leading the siege.

"By the Founder!" Ravenshill whispered hoarsely. These heretics were unlike any army he'd ever seen. He silently cursed them as he watched his men routing. Glancing to his messengers, he issued them an order.

"Reform the lines at a distance of five miles from this cursed base! Summon all of the captains! We need to discuss our next assault!"

"Yes Lord Ravenshill!"

* * *

"I'm surprised they managed to cross a mortar barrage," Roberts remarked dryly with Hamilton nodding, "I was expecting them to break earlier."

Both men were watching the CCTV screens while reports were coming in from the helicopters. The enemy was in full retreat. The question was whether or not they'd reform, or keep running. While they waited for whichever reality to materialize, the helicopters were landed, rearmed, and refueled, and more ammo was distributed to the defenders.

"Sir, the _Intrepid_ reports that the enemy ground forces are currently reforming," a radio operator reported later, "The Albion ships have retreated out of the area as well. Bearing east." No doubt to join one of the other two prongs of the offensive.

"Right," Hamilton acknowledged, "Don't think we'll ever see those ships again." If he had a wager a guess, they decimated at least half of this army is just an hour. They were still out there, but they weren't a threat to this base and there wasn't anything else out here for them to threaten. They could send the helicopters out again, but munitions was limited; they'd gone through quite a few of their Hellfires and they had no idea if more enemy ships were coming.

"So far, things are looking favorable," Devers commented as he looked at the screen.

"That's most of their attacking force that got crippled," Harper added, "I'd estimate that at least 50% of their fighting men got neutralized."

"The rest are probably terrorized right now," Hamilton said, "Which buys us more time."

"Gentlemen, what is the current situation with the Tristainian airspace?" Devers asked, "The embassies need to know if it would be possible for them to evac safely."

All attention was thrown to the radar display. Already, a force of Albion ships were getting close to the portal, and another was still heading for the Capital.

"Currently, I'd advise against it," Hamilton spoke up, "Their heading and speed would make any evac far too tight timewise. There's a good chance they'd get caught up in the influx of troops coming in."

"They're not going to like that."

Both colonels nodded before turning their attention to the CCTV screens. The fields around the base were filled with the fallen Albion forces while the rest of the attack was waiting a few miles away. But there was no point in leaving their entrenchments for a pursuit or a pre-emptive attack just yet.

Instead, they'd bide their time for now. Reinforcements would come and break through part of the line. After that, they could get a search and destroy mission going.

* * *

Trudeau and Trump listened, in their respective military headquarters, to the latest report that had come from Halkeginia.

"Well M. Trudeau, the gloves are coming off!" Trump declared angrily as he looked at the screen where his Canadian counterpart's face was on, "Albion has gone too far!"

Both men and their cabinets were in an emergency videoconference. In both National Defense Headquarters and the Pentagon, staff personnel were running around, relaying the latest news from Halkegenia.

"Indeed they have," Trudeau responded, his tone serious and lacking its usual friendliness, "Parliament will meet in an hour. We will vote for special temporary measures as this attack on Tristain is a threat to Canada. I don't believe we'll get any opposition."

"Especially with the indication one of those fleets is heading directly for the portal." Sajjan reported, holding the latest report in his hands.

"Montreal is already under alert," Goodale reported, "The municipal and provincial police are already working to clear out the streets."

"I know. M. Legault has called us already to report exactly that and that he hopes that we act quickly enough to avoid too much disruption in Quebec."

"I don't think any of us have anything to worry about with both of our people guarding it on the other side." Trump pointed out.

"Better safe than sorry."

"Indeed, our boys are going to get there soon." Trump was right- the first infantry companies were supposed to be arriving in Quebec later that day.

"A Brigade from the 1st Cavalry Division are mobilizing by rail," Mattis added, "They should arrive in a few days."

"Wonderful, we've already got units heading out to relieve Clément-sur-Mer," Sajjan reported, "Mainly mechanized assets, but we've also made the decision to deploy artillery batteries at the portal. We're mobilizing the Reserve and are considering the mobilization of the Supplementary Reserve in Eastern Canada. Regular Force units in Quebec are already heading to reinforce our forces already present"

"I see."

"What about Queen Henrietta's forces?" Trump asked Mattis. They were still allies. And they needed to know for no better reason than to avoid friendly fire.

"Currently, her Majesty is doing her best to rally her forces," the Secretary of Defense reported, "Given that most of her armies are largely on foot and scattered, it'll take a while. The stronger armies have already begun to complete their mobilization and are converging on the capital as we speak. They can't defend the whole country, so they're focusing on defending strategic targets."

"The Navy is doing its best to help by transporting her forces to the capital," Sajjan added, "But they are badly outnumbered. This invasion is made up of over 90 ships." Medieval or no, those were still alarming numbers.

"We can be fairly certain that the Tristainian government is at no risk to collapse just yet?"

"The Queen is standing strong." Secretary Pompeo answered, "If anything, she's proven herself to be a rallying figure for her people. But there isn't any doubt that that attack is heading directly for her."

"Even if they consolidate their forces, they'll be outnumbered." Saijin pointed out. "There's a real risk that the attack could decapitate their government, and its definitely going to arrive within the next 24 hours. Our forces over there have given the opinion there won't be enough time to evacuate our embassies." He added gravely.

"Are we in a position to help with the defense?" Trudeau asked. The answer from the national defense leaders on both sides were head shakes no.

"All our forces are centered either at the base or the portal. The capital is too far for us to reach in a reasonable time," Sajjan stated, "At best, our forces would arrive piecemeal and would not be able to organize quickly enough to be efficient in defending the capital. The base we built was for monitoring and border protection, not directing forces across the entire country."

That was something unacceptable in everyone's mind.

"So what can we do?" Trump asked.

"Set up a real command in the region." Mattis proposed simply, "That way, we would be able to properly face whatever Albion throws at us now and in the future."

"There won't be a future." Trump stated flatly. "How fast can we get that done?"

"It should be a simple matter of relocating the command elements of the forces being deployed into one place and a general to oversee the command."

"Sajjin, we need someone with experience that can arrive quickly. Where can we put this command center? The Capital?" Trudeau asked.

"Too risky for the time being," Sajjan replied, "Again, that fleet is going to be there within the day. We don't have air superiority for the moment. For the scale of what we're doing, I'm not sure we can base it in this world without overloading the interworld communication systems. As for experience, General Vance can find us someone in the next few hours."

"Well, we need to find a place fast." The clock was ticking. The Earth forces could wipe the floor with Cromwell's Army, no doubt, but they needed command and control, and that wasn't something you could set up on a dime.

"Is the area around the Academy secured?"

"Intelligence puts one of those fleets as heading right for it. At the moment, no." Mattis said.

"Do we have an estimate when will that fleet arrive?" Sajjan asked.

"A few hours at best," an aide reported.

"I think I can see where we can take this," Mattis noted, "Destroy that fleet, secure the area and use it as a command station. There's only one attack incoming."

'Exactly," Sajjan answered.

"Then let's get ready for that move. Make sure both our peoples are together and ready." Trump slipped into a cocky attitude momentarily as he cracked his knuckles. "We're going to get our people out of there, and we're not going to let these bastards get even a single victory."

* * *

"How can this be?!" Cromwell snarled. Bowing before him was a messenger who had just arrived from the outworlders' outpost near the coast. The man had hurried on a wind dragon- one of the same that had been organized for the attack itself.

"We do not understand Lord-Protector," the man stammered, noticing the dark circles under his leader's eyes, "Their weapons, they destroyed many of our ships as they landed and decimated many of our dragon rider squadrons. And they used some magic to destroy our siege guns." The Albion ruler rubbed his temples, a tired expression."

"But we still have a few thousand men surrounding their base, milord!" The messenger insisted, "Many of the ships have been able to return!" That last one was a lie- less than ten had come back, most of them unarmed cargo vessels.

"As long as they are kept busy!" Cromwell spat out. The main drive of this invasion was nearly at the Tristainian Capital. He'd had to break off part of his fleet to chase the Tristainian Navy, but he still had plenty of ships and thousands of men with him. If the outworlder airships came here…

"Have we seen anymore of the outworlders' forces?"

"No milord! We've seen none of them in or around the Capital. They likely have a large amount of soldiers at the portal." The portal. That blasted thing. Cromwell had given his forces the explicit order to destroy the thing. The future of Halkeginia lay with him, not with another world.

"We will leave that to Viscount Wardes then."

* * *

Meanwhile, in Tristainia, Queen Henrietta was in the Palace's war room. A map of the kingdom was laid on a table in front of her. Little flags were placed at different points, marking where the noble armies were mustering as well as strategic locations such as the Academy and its portal.

The door swung open, revealing General du Poitier and Admiral de Châteauneuf. Both bowed before their queen.

"Your Majesty, the Vallieres have arrived with their army with the Navy's help," du Poitier reported, "I have asked them to man the walls for the time being. Lord Vallière has agreed to do so given that he does not wish to leave his forces exposed to naval bombardment from Albion's ships. Lady Vallière has already rallied the Manticore Knights as well. "

"The Navy is currently resting but is preparing to transport more reinforcements to the capital," de Châteauneuf reported in his usual monotone droning. "We cannot face Cromwell's navy head on as they outnumber us three to one."

Henrietta nodded as she heard both reports.

"What of the other armies?"

"Lords Grammond and Grandpré have said that they will be ready to depart for the capital later today. The others will be ready tomorrow." Those were the three largest armies in the Kingdom.

"That means we would have 20 000 men to defend the Capital," Henrietta said, "Against Cromwell's main army and fleet." They would be leaving their borders undefended, but that was a necessary risk right now.

"Do we have word from the Canadians and Americans?" du Poitiers asked, a hint of worry in his voice.

"They are currently mobilizing their armies to aid us," Henrietta answered.

"I see." du Poitiers nodded, "When will they arrive?"

"They have already begun to arrive at the Academy and have begun to move to reinforce the training base."

"How will they move to assist us?"

"I am awaiting news about that," Henrietta stated. She then heard the sound of a phone ringing. The queen put it on speaker.

"You'll be glad to know that our combined forces have beaten back the first Reconquista assaults aimed at the training base and have destroyed over a dozen ships along with the forces on board. The _Intrepid_ has performed superbly as well." Ambassador Ambroise reported enthusiastically, "We just got the news."

Henrietta and du Poitier were both elastic at the news.

"There's still some forces around the base, but they've been mostly decimated and are likely to be defeated within a few days. I don't think we have to worry about losing control of the coast."

"Welcome news indeed," Du Poitier replied, "Thank you Ambassador."

"Send word to the army," the Queen ordered, "This will strengthen their resolve."

"We are also in the process of organizing a relief force that will head to Tristainia," Ambroise added, "As we speak, our military leaders are preparing to meet to plan our armed forces' response. Is it true that the enemy is heading for the Capital?"

"Our scout ships reported that Albion's forces have split into three smaller forces. I presume that the first force was tasked with seizing Clément-sur-Mer," de Châteauneuf stated, "Judging by their last known course, the two remaining fleets are most likely heading to the Academy and the Capital."

"Our military planners believe it as well." Ambroise confirmed. "You have the guarantee of both governments that we'll help in the defense of Tristainia."

"Thank you ambassador."

"Unfortunately, it will take us time to get set up. A day at least. But rest assured, your Highness, we will hold our promise to defend you and your people. I will give you an update once things begin moving."

* * *

The phone rang in Ambassador Fitzgerald's office at the American Embassy in Tristain. He almost missed the call as he and his staff were busy packing everything sensitive in the embassy. The security detail was on full alert outside. Who knew if any Reconquista sympathizers would be emboldened enough to strike again, given the current situation.

"Fitzgerald." he said hurriedly as he brought the phone to his ears.

"This is Richard," the voice replied, "Your people got the word as well?"

"Yes, the countryside is too unsafe for any evacuation," the American said as he sat on a corner of his desk, "We're going to stay here and keep acting as relay between our governments."

"We got word from Ottawa and we're staying put as well," Ambroise said, "They can't guarantee a safe evacuation for the moment. They asked us to keep in touch with her Majesty and do our best to reassure her that we won't abandon her."

Fitzgerald nodded. Helicopters were fast but flying out of the capital without knowing if the skies or lands were safe was not a good idea.

"Very well," he replied confidently, "Personally, I have faith that our forces would be able to make it to the capital before things get too hairy."

"I share your confidence. This should be over in a week at the most," Ambroise said.

"Right. I believe the same thing but we're staying on alert in case if any Reconquista sympathizers that survived the Coronation attack decide to get confident. Stay safe over there."

"Same to you."

* * *

The Canadian Parliament had met and cast the vote. The attack on Tristain, as per the Emergencies Act, was judged by the Members of Parliament to be a direct threat to Canadian sovereignty. That enabled the Cabinet to take special measures to ensure national security. The vote had been reported in the news just minutes after it was cast, but Trudeau still appeared in a broadcast to tell the populace directly. He had already prepared a speech. Standing in one of Parliament's pressrooms, the Prime Minister was surrounded by throngs of reporters. Canadian media networks had stopped their usual broadcasts to focus on this moment. Every channel had been requisitioned and was broadcasting his address.

"I will not lie to my fellow Canadians: Canada, our proud country, is in danger. Earlier today, we have received news that Oliver Cromwell's forces have crossed the border into Tristain with the intent of conquering our friends' homeland. As such, he is threatening our nation as well."

News anchors were silent as he spoke while camera flashes went off.

"M. Scheer and M. Singh have agreed to cooperate with me in the face of this threat despite our differences. The safety of our nation is a priority for the government and we have chosen a course of action. Quebec and Ontario will be placed under a state of emergency to allow our troops to mobilize quickly to this threat. As such, extraordinary powers shall be given to the government, the police forces and the armed forces as to ensure the necessary means to respond to M. Cromwell's aggression."

Shocked gasps could be heard in the living rooms of Quebecers and Ontarians as they digested the news. Many knew what this meant. Many patriotic Quebecers were angered at first. This was the second time that their province was under martial law, by another Trudeau no less! It was a bitter truth that this time, the threat to their lives was far bigger than it was in October 1970.

"As of now, the Emergencies Act will enable them to act accordingly. This will give them free reign to do what is necessary to end this threat despite the challenge it presents to our society. They will be allowed to arrest, search and detain any person acting in a way that hampers our response to Albion's attacks. They will also be allowed enforce curfews, no-fly zones and another necessary measures at any time in order to ensure a swift and efficient movement of our forces as well as our allies'."

"This decision was not taken lightly by Parliament. I did not wish for such a decision but it was a necessary one given the facts that we are facing right now. If our and Tristainian society are to continue to exist, it must be able to destroy dangerous fanatics seeking the destruction of the very base of our freedom and liberty. For that reason, the members of Parliament have seen reviewed the facts set before them, including requests by the Governments of Quebec and Ontario for urgent action to ensure their safety. After such a review, Parliament has proclaimed the Emergencies Act this afternoon at 3PM in order to permit the full weight of the Canadian Government to act quickly and decisively against a tyrannical leader that seeks to use violence as a means of achieving political ends."

"I ask that every Canadian cooperate in these dangerous times. Our enemy may wield swords and muskets but their intentions are evil and should be considered as serious. These are people who have committed atrocities in the past and will likely do so in the future should they have the chance. We cannot allow them to do so. Already, many innocents have died to Oliver Cromwell's folly. Should they invade Tristain, the suffering and death toll will be immense. We can not stand idly while such comes to pass on our doorstep."

"That is why the brave men and women of our Canadian Armed Forces are intervening. To protect an innocent people from destruction. We will not back down from this aggression. Instead, we will rise to the occasion and stop this folly."

Trudeau's face hardened.

"In his folly and arrogance, M. Cromwell has sent an envoy to our forces in Tristain today to bribe them into joining him. As a Canadian, I am proud to know that our troops have proven themselves worthy of praise as they soundly refused to accept his terms. His offers were disgusting and show his intent for Tristain once his conquest was done. Plunder, rape and murder was what he offered them in exchange of their cooperation. That is where the line between civilization and barbarity is drawn."

"Once our troops have refused his offers, his envoy threatened them and their lives. I am confident that the measures we have taken to ensure their safety will be more than enough. He thinks we will fold easily. He thinks that we will not act, that we will stand idly then he is sorely mistaken. If he thinks that we fear him, I have but one thing to say to M. Cromwell: Just watch me."

People everywhere in Canada reacted. Some were applauding the swift response. Others were openly mocking Trudeau's choice of final words for his speech either by claiming that he was riding off his father's coattails or that the Trudeau family just had to mess with Quebec again. Older Montrealers shuddered as they remembered how the last time such measures were implemented in their city. Certain fringe groups already wanted to protest the decision. Bar fights had erupted in bars near universities as drunk and stoned students from different political allegiances decided to resolve their differences with their fists. No one knew who threw the first punches though.

And just like so many times before, while the people argued and debated, the troops were already on the move.

* * *

In the United States, the American President has war powers for two months- he can order the military to action, but after two months he needs to get Congress to agree to funding to continue it. Trump wasn't worried about that in the slightest: he knew and fully intended for this to be over in a week tops.

"Good afternoon America." Unusually, he started his speech with a more restrained tone. "As I'm sure you've heard by now, war has broken out in the other world. Albion has invaded Tristain and they have attacked the troops of our proud military. They seek to subjugate Tristain and destroy its rightful government, installing a dangerous fanatical theocracy in its place- right on our doorstep."

"This is unacceptable!" And suddenly the usual Trump was back, "We will not let this terrorist leader have his way! The United States will not accept such a thing! We will not abandon Tristain to a crazy fanatic! Our armed forces are already on their way to defend our allies. We will not be intimidated by a murderer and a thug! We will destroy Albion and make them regret attacking us!"

"This fool thought he could bribe our troops! By telling them that they could steal, rape and burn anything they wanted if they joined with him. I am proud to be American when I heard that our men in uniform flatly refused this horrible offer. I am extremely proud to know that we are fighting this kind of animal!"

He paused and braced himself on the podium for a dramatic effect.

"Our troops have fought more dangerous enemies in the past. Oliver Cromwell is nothing but vermin that needs to be removed. Something our men and women in uniform can handle easily I expect them to destroy Albion's forces easily. We will not hesitate in doing what is necessary to win."

"America's friends will also be fighting alongside us against Albion. I am very happy that they will pulling their weight for once! Our teamwork will lead us to victory. against Reconquista. The good guys are coming for you M. Cromwell and we will not hesitate to destroy you and your country!"

In many diplomatic offices, loud groans could be heard when Trump mentioned America's allies.

"And to those who think that we will forget our commitments here on Earth, who think we can be taken advantage of during this time, let me warm you: we will not! The United States will not turn its back on any of our friends or commitments in either world. We stay stay strong and dedicated here and there always!"

All around the country, cheers rang out from Trump supporters and military personnel. Even the President's staunchist opponents didn't resent the decision too openly. This was probably the most just conflict the US had gotten involved in this century. Victory was assured.

And afterall, the Internet did joke that they were facing wannabee Redcoats!

* * *

Three days ago the portal had been surrounded by carts, impromptu market stalls, and hundreds of merchants. The only security presence had been a few bland buildings and concrete barriers surrounded by armored vehicles.

Now there was barbed wire, trenches and foxholes for dozens of meters out. LAV-IIIs and Humvees with TOW launchers, grenade launchers, and other weapons were parked everywhere. Any reinforcements that had been bound for the base had been told to hold by the portal once the incoming attack was identified. Defending their supply lines was more important. It was not a regretted choice, especially after the news of the failed assault of Clement-sur-Mer had reached both military commands. A few units had been directed to the academy to help guard it even though all of the student body had evacuated or were now standing on its walls ready to fight.

Several had found their way over to the portal and talked themselves into service with the leader of the Tristain border guard. They were all kids. Only a few years younger then a lot of the Earth troops, but still kids.

Huynh sighed as he looked at some of them as he made his way to the trench.

"I think they're getting desperate," Brisebois remarked as he walked alongside his lieutenant. Their platoon was being redeployed today.

"Yeah, some of these kids would probably never pass the physical test."

Brisebois chuckled darkly.

"Like that fat blond kid we saw leave?"

The lieutenant nodded as they kept walking towards their next station. Around them, Canadian and American soldiers were caught up in a flurry of activity. They moved supplies, dug defenses, sighted in artillery pieces that had just arrived. Kill zones were established as well with machine guns being zeroed in. Anti-aircraft missiles and C-RAM's were set up as well. The combat engineers and the troops had outdone themselves. The earthworks spread widely in the area.

By now, Huynh's platoon was where it was supposed to be: the Academy. Other troops followed in as well. The plan was simple. Having Earth troops at the Academy and the Portal outpost would catch the Reconquista forces in a deadly enfilade as they advanced. Both locations would serve as anchors for the defensive line.

Many of the commoner staff was gathered as the Earth troops entered and walked by them. They remembered just how badly these men had reacted when the Cathedral attack had happened. Their anger was terrifying to say the least but understandable.

Siesta gasped softly as she saw Brisebois. She had seen him before in his strange armour but the way he and his fellow soldiers held themselves right now was intimidating and reassuring at the same time. Their faces were hard and serious as they walked with their backs straight. They spread out across the Academy alongside the Tristainian troops.

"Hey Siesta!" Brisebois yelled as he waved and grinned, causing the maid to blush, "How are you doing?"

The corporal walked over while the rest of his platoon and lieutenant took a quick break.

"I'm doing fine André." she answered slightly surprised at his friendliness, "You?"

"Pretty good. Hey euh listen… about last time…"

"Yes?"

"Sorry about freaking you out." he apologized awkwardly, "We kinda got angry back there."

Siesta was slightly speechless. She didn't expect an apology.

"But it wasn't necessary," the maid stammered back.

"Bah it's the least I could do," the corporal replied with a warm grin, "Where's you family by the way?"

"They've stayed here since the countryside is too unsafe."

"Good idea," Brisebois said, "I'll come see you when this is all over hein?"

He winked as he finished his sentence.

"Please be careful," Siesta said nervously, "You have so many stories to tell me."

"Don't worry," Brisebois confidently replied, "I'll be fine."

With that, he headed to meet up with the rest of his platoon who was finishing their break.

"Time to review our orders ladies and gentlemen," Lt. Huynh said as his unit snapped their attention to him, "We are to man the walls of the Academy. Specifically, the western walls. The Tristainian army troops will also be fighting alongside us and we will mages to support our defense. Is this clear so far?"

Nods answered all he needed to know.

"Given the location of the Academy, we will able to catch any enemy force in a crossfire. The higher ups want us to take cover and hold our fire until they reach 300m from the walls. We already have the upper hand in firepower so this will allow us to maximise the effect of surprise."

He looked up at the walls which was already being manned by some of the Tristainian troops and mages.

"I want the best shooters in each section to specifically target enemy officers and mages. They have significantly more capabilities and are a force multiplier that must be removed. They will stand out in contrast to the rank and file according to intelligence we've received. I want everyone on the walls now. Take a good look at the area from there and stay sharp for anything coming in."

It had been an hour since the troops from both worlds took position on the Academy's walls and in its courtyards. Some things, no matter the place or time, ever changed. Rounds were being done constantly while the troops tried to strike up conversation and break the ice between the newly meeting allies. Rations were being shared with the Earth troops doing their best not to show off too much. There was the occasional cultural clash over various topics such as the presence of women in battle amongst the rank and file or the snobbishness of certain noble officers towards their Earth counterparts. Fighting men bragged about how they would they triumph this day to the staff.

Klaxons and radios went off: The enemy had finally arrived. Every noncombatant had taken cover. Anyone who was fighting was dug in and ready. The first enemy to attack were fire dragons and their riders, two prongs heading for both the academy and the portal. Heat guided missiles launched from afar, shooting down several before they could get close. The rest weren't deterred.

Tracers filled the sky as heavy machine guns and other AA weapons let loose into the air, thousands of bullets flying across the sky in all directions. Dragons were fast and nimble, but they were still large targets and their riders had brought them in low to attack. Their riders dodged and weaved as best as they could. Their leader cursed the otherworlders' muskets. No Halkegenia army could boast such accurate musketry nor summon up such a volume of lead.

50 caliber rounds pierced soft underbelly, membrane wings, or even scales and several dragons and their riders were sent tumbling into the dirt. Spells began to cast towards the line as men dove out of the way of lethal bursts of fire, some very narrowly. As one dove for a trench, the infantry inside raised their sights and fired. Even concentrated 5.56 was enough and the dragon hit the ground with a dull meaty thud and bounced across the ground and even over the trench before coming to a stop, its rider crushed to death at some point in the journey. They kept pouring fire towards their enemy even as the dragons crashed on the hard ground just in case if the rider was still alive.

At the Academy, a trio dived at the wall when the Canadian platoon was. They saw it coming and redirected their fire.

"Tabarnak!" Huynh shouted frantically as he raised his rifle and pulled its trigger, "Bring those fucking lizards down!"

Next to him, a Tristainian officer was shouting orders to his musketeers.

"Ready… aim… fire!"

The muskets thundered off in a single volley, breaking up the dragon rider flight and hitting one of the mages. Acrid smoke filled the air as a small cloud of gunpowder smoke hung out around for a few seconds before the mage officer casted a spell to blow away the fog.

"Thank you milord!"

The Canadian riflemen redirected their fire, hitting one's rider and sending the unfortunate mage on a one way ticket to the ground. The other attempted a spell but his mount had been injured and careened out of the sky before landing in the Academy's courtyard. His fireball went off, barely missing a squad that was on the ground. The mage was thrown off his mount. Somehow, the rider survived the crash, pushing his mount's corpse off of him. Much to horror, a dozen enemy musketeers had their muskets pointed at him. His wand was gone, probably having fallen out his hands. There was no way his sword could do anything against them.

"Freeze!" Trombley shouted to the man as he and some others surrounded the dragon rider, "Hands in the air motherfucker! Secure that prisoner!"

A roar caught their attention followed by some gunshots. The dragon spasmed for a moment and went still. The crash hadn't killed it, apparently.

"Fucking lizard tried to burn us alive!" a sergeant shouted, his rifle smoking. Near him, the dragon's head had been riddled with holes.

"Good job there Baxter!"

The man gave a quick thumbs as he and his men tied up their captive and led him to a cellar. THe gunfire was going strong but slowly died down.

Shortly after, on the walls, the troops breathed a sigh of relief as they saw the dragon riders break off their attacks. Huynh tracked the dragons flying away with his binoculars.

"Brisebois."

His radio operator handed him the radio as both crouched behind the battlements to report the situation to his superiors. He peered over quickly to see how many riders had been knocked out of the skies.

"I can count a dozen enemy air assets knocked out of action. Alpha platoon reports no casualties." he reported over the radio before turning to his unit, "Go fill up on ammo!"

* * *

On one the decks of one of the Albionian frigates, Viscount Wardes was looking over a map with his captains. They could hear the sound of the battle in the distance.

"Viscount," one of them reported, "We should arrive at the landing zone soon. If all goes according to plan, the Fire Dragon riders should have disrupted the enemy's defenses."

"Excellent." Wardes replied with a smile, "You are dismissed gentlemen. Ready your men for victory!" he boasted proudly as his officers left him. The former Griffon knight sat back into his chair, sighing contently at the taste of imminent victory.

He had volunteered to lead the Reconquista spearhead that would seize the Academy and the Portal. It was all for a single prize as he produced a small locket from his pocket. Opening it, the grey haired gazed at the portrait inside. It was one of his fiancée that had been stolen by a blasphemous boy from Earth: Louise-Françoise Le Blanc de la Vallière.

"Soon my beloved, you shall be mine and all shall be fine in this world."

All he had to do was to crush this pathetic army and seize the Academy where his love was waiting for him. After a little 'convincing' of the magical kind, the small mage would make for a splendid bride and mother for his heir. Wardes could already picture the fallen body of Hiraga Saito lying defeated along the corpses of the soldiers from Earth.

' _A fitting end for such unbelievers'_ , he mused.

"Milord," the captain of the ship interrupted his musings, "We are beginning our landings."

"Understood," Wardes replied as he stood up, "Ready my mount."

* * *

Unbeknownst to the Reconquista commanders, their approach had been spotted by well concealed scouts hidden in the nearby woods. Grid coordinates were relayed back to the portal's command post. Very soon, camo netting was pulled off howitzers. A battery of six 105mm guns from a reserve unit had been rushed through and were dug in near the portal, well behind the layers of infantry and vehicles. They were faithful pieces that had proven themselves many times on Earth. Now it was their time to shine once more coordinates came in as the barrels were raised and artillerymen went through their loading procedures. A series of clicks echoed as the breeches were locked.

Wardes observed from atop his griffon the first men disembarking from his frigates and transports. A voice and wing flaps caught his attention.

"Viscount Wardes!"

It was one of the dragon riders. His sweat-covered face looked pale as terror was etched across his face.

"We must call off the attack! They have-"

"Preposterous!" Wardes interrupted, "Why would we-"

A loud whistling sound followed by six loud explosions drowned out the rest of Wardes' sentence. The shots had straddled one of his ships. Shockwaves caused unlit lanterns, bottles and wooden beams to crack and break. Men stumbled, some from ladders and netting before falling several feet to the ground.

"By the Founder!" Wardes exclaimed angrily before turning to the dragon rider, "Why are you here?!"

"Our attack has been repelled. Many have been grievously injured or slain by the enemy musketeers."

"Wha-"

More of that infernal whistling. This time, however, the shells connected with a ship. The 11kg shells pierced through the wooden deck before detonating in the hold, setting off a catastrophic chain reaction. A large fireball erupted where the ship once was, incinerating men and sending burning debris everywhere. Cries of pain could be heard as mages threw up more shields to protect themselves from whatever had just hit them.

"Get the army off of those ships as quickly as you can! We cannot afford losing men before the battle!" Wardes ordered, his voice amplified by a spell, "We'll form up on the march!"

At the same time, he ordered his griffon to gain some altitude to observe his army and fleet. He had already lost one ship to the enemy's decidedly superior artillery. A volley of... fire lances roared from the enemy's lines towards his ships. Some exploded harmlessly on magical earth shields while others found their mark, destroying more ships and killing more men. The Albionian commanders caught on and Wind Mages began casting windshield spells on the sides of their ships facing the enemy base. More of that infernal whistling filled the air as another salvo impacted a landed transport, one shell detonating prematurely but the others continuing through. The shields had done nothing.

* * *

Phones rang in both the Pentagon and NDHQ moments after the attack on the portal began. Cheers rang out when news that the enemy airships were being destroyed one by one came out. They were going for 2-0 now.

* * *

Huynh grimaced as he lowered his binoculars. The good news was that the enemy's ships were disengaging, many having been reduced to burning matchwood by artillery or TOWs with their contingents of men still trapped inside. That was the good news. There was still the bad news.

"Bastards still want to fight, fuck!"

In front of him, he could see explosions churning the ground as the howitzers and mortars blew great holes in the Reconquista lines. Despite this, the fanatical enemy kept pushing, their drums and fiddles playing music to lead them forth as their banners fluttered in the wind. Huynh even swore that he heard singing. Swords, pikes, muskets and horsemen, it was a real antique show. But it wasn't a fucking show- they fully intended to use those on his men. Said men were huddled behind the walls' battlements, waiting to surprise their enemy with deadly fire on their flank. The mortarmen, riflemen and machine gunners were itching with anticipation as they waited for the enemy to close.

The enemy army broke off in smaller fragments, a smaller force marching towards the Academy, no doubt expecting light resistance. Around them, Tristainian troops and mages were getting ready too, just as itching as the Canadians and Americans.

Coordinates were being transmitted through the radio as mortar teams adjusted to fire followed by the deadly buzzing sound of machine guns. The cracking of rifles soon mixed with them.

The first line of the Albion detachment simply disappeared. Men fell without being able to register what happened. Great walls of dirt rose from the ground to shield them from the enemy fire. It was the first effective thing they'd done- it was enough to stop the rifle fire. But it wasn't enough to stop the mortars. Arcing above, they simply flew over the dirt walls. A series of projectiles thundered against the earth walls though and tore them asunder.

The Canadian Carl Gustav sections reloaded as they waited for other targets. Muskets began to thunder off, the mage blowing the smoke towards the enemy. Suddenly, the wind began to howl ominously.

"Fuck!"Brisebois shouted as he saw a darkening tunnel appear, "Le tabarnak! A fucking mage's summoning a fucking tornado!"

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

Huynh was scanning frantically across the ranks for anyone whose look screamed 'mage'. He finally noticed one that was chanting and pointing his wand at his position. Another mage on the battlements began to chant a counterspell.

"Fire on my tracers!" He ordered into his radio, "Montferrant! I want Carlo fire on it!"

"Understood!"

The familiar cannon-like sound resonated before the shell obliterated the mage. It was overkill but this was an emergency. The wind ceased to howl while a smoking crater was the only proof that a Albion wind mage had once existed. Metal clanging from the Albion lines could only mean one thing: Golems.

The summoned constructs rushed the walls, bullets and musket balls impacting on them. The sturdy golems took quite a few hits before going down. It was borrowed time for their thinning troops to advance. Spell fire began being exchanged between the Academy defenders and the Albion forces. Fire balls and water jets flew through the air while men ducked and weaved to avoid them. Magical shields popped up to deflect the magical projectiles. However, the Albion mages were falling one by one, being singled out by the Earth soldiers who didn't hesitate to eliminate them. The cries of the wounded and dying, followed by the heavy fire undid the assault on the Academy as a trickle of fleeing men turned into a routing torrent.

As for the portal, the Albion army endured a similar fate. Only here, the defenders didn't possess magic… but had much heavier firepower. The Canadians and Americans here had the luxury of having more room which translated into more dug-in positions… and light armoured support. Everytime a push got too close or a mage too daring, an LAV-III would respond with its 25mm cannon. Cavalry found itself being stopped by machine guns and barbed wire. The field was stained red as the massed ranks, despite their efforts to scatter, were cut down mercilessly. Albion's cannons were never fired, shattering under enemy counterfire while still being dragged to battle.

Wardes cursed as he and his dragon riders weaved through the skies, dodging the enemy's lethal fire. One by one they fell.

"Milord! We must call a retreat!" one of his riders shouted as he weaved his way through the skies beside him, "We cannot-"

"That is out of the question!" Wardes snapped, "We must stop-"

The Viscount heard a cry of pain. He felt a sticky wet liquid on his leg at. At the same time, the dragon rider went down, shredded by the enemy's weapons. Glancing, he saw the red tint of blood. His mount was hit and was struggling to level itself in the skies. Despite its best efforts, the griffin fell out of the skies. The loyal beast did its best to protect its rider. In its dying breath, the griffin did its best to shield Wardes from the enemy as it collapsed, the viscount falling off and knocked out by the impact.

Around him, the Albion troops paid no attention to him as they ran for their lives, all semblance of military discipline, fanaticism and courage gone in the face of overwhelming might and firepower.

The call went out that the enemy was retreating. But that wasn't good enough for the defenders. They had to keep their corridor to the coast completely open and no one wanted the chance of stragglers terrorizing the countryside. It was a few minutes before action could be arranged, but the Albion troops' legs could only carry them so far so fast. Several LAV-IIIs loaded with men left the line in pursuit.

Some Albion troops turned around and saw the carriages coming and just ran harder before 25mm fire killed them. Others decided just to drop where they were expecting death. Some slit their own throats to avoid what they figured would be a worse fate. A few truly brave (or stupid) ones stood their ground again. A few raised their hands, pleading for mercy.

Whatever they did, the battle was over and the retreating forces decimated. Less than 400 Albion troops escaped into the countryside and forests. Several hundred were picked up having either surrendered or been grievously injured. Thousands lay dead, and over a dozen airships lay smoldering on the ground. The stench of death hung around the portal and the Academy.

But the battle for won. That was all that mattered right now.

* * *

As Siesta and the Academy's commoner staff emerged from one of the cellars, they were greeted by a sight they could not expect. From inside their underground shelter, they could only hear what was happening, not see. The sound of thunderous guns resonated regularly inside the cellar. Explosions shook the ground while the constant sound of musket fire rang out. Now, back on the surface, they were shocked to see the Earth troops casually going about their business while their own soldiers were wide-eyed. Some of the Earth soldiers were smoking and laughing as they moved out of the Academy, weapons in hand. In the distance, Siesta heard the sound of the outworlders' armoured vehicles in the distance.

"Have we won the battle?" Chef Marteau asked a passing group of American soldier.

"Yup," the man was grinning, almost ferally. "Canucks are chasing the last of the bastards down now."

"Canucks?"

"The Canadians. We're going out to clear the battlefield. Make sure no Albion troops can stir up trouble for anyone else."

"I see! I shall prepare a feast for this army when you return!" Marteau exclaimed.

"Thanks Chef but I don't think we'll be able to eat that feast for a while."

"I shall await for your return then."

The American smiled before leaving. At the same time, a group of Canadian soldiers entered the Academy's gate, carrying stretchers. Siesta and other maids gasped as they looked at those being carried in. At first, it was a pair of Earth soldiers who had been badly burnt by dragon fire. The soldiers groaned as their comrades carried them with haste and care. Strange pouches were connected to the men and were held by a soldier. After that, it was nothing but moaning Albion soldiers, their dull yellow clothes stained with red blood or blackened by ash and soot. Some were horrendously wounded, missing arms or legs or disfigured.

"Carry them to the infirmary!" a soldier yelled while being guided by a pale looking Colbert. The Reconquista troops kept flowing in, outnumbering any of the Earth troops in terms of injured, much to the shock of the Tristainians. Siesta's curiosity got the better of her as she ran through the throngs of soldiers towards the gate.

"Wait! What are you doing!?" another maid cried out but Siesta ignored her. As she got closer to the Academy's gate, she stopped in her tracks before falling to her knees, her eyes wide and vomiting.

The once pristine fields before the Academy were scarred by large craters while smoke hung lowly on the battlefield. The broken bodies of dragons and men littered the ground. In the distance, plumes of smoke rose from shattered ships.

And in the middle of that hellish nightmare, the American and Canadians soldiers were working to clean up the carnage. As if nothing happened.

* * *

"Sir, we have found some more live ones!" a medic reported to Huynh and Brisebois. Both had pulled their shemaghs up to mask the smell. It didn't help with the sound however. Around them, their platoon was busy looking for survivors to help.

"Good, are you able to get them on stretchers?" the lieutenant asked. The medic shook his head.

"No sir, we're doing our best but there's so many wounded that we don't have enough to get'em out."

Huynh nodded and massaged his temples.

"Well, do your best then and keep an eye out for any ViP's"

It was at that moment that he noticed what seemed to be a griffin. It stood out amongst the other mounts in its size and its magnificent (now blood and mud soaked) appearance. They'd been told they existed, but they hadn't seen any before. But they were definitely a mount for nobles or high ranking soldiers.

"Brisebois, you noticed that griffin there?"

"Yeah, didn't they all ride on dragons?"

Huynh nodded before making a sign for one of his sections to approach the fallen beast. The Van Doos did so, their rifles pointing at its head.

"There's someone behind it!" A sergeant called out. Behind the massive winged beast, someone was lying on the ground. "Might be alive- doesn't look like he broke his neck." Some of the riders who had fallen were really messed up to say the least.

"Check his vitals, but be-"

The figure suddenly moved and waved his swordwand while yelling. The sound of almost a dozen assault rifles and two machine guns put an end to the rider who fell back on the ground, his blood pooling around him.

"Mon ostie de tabarnak!" growled Huynh as his men walked up to the torn up corpse. One signalled that he was dead. After a few steps, Huynh took a good look and noticed how well dressed the man had been. The silver hair and beard were stained with blood while his light blue and grey clothes were reminiscent of 'The Three Musketeers". Near him laid a finely made swordlike weapon that was shattered. Whoever he was, he was important, judging by his dress, unique mount and elegant weapon.

"Dead," a medic reported as he took the man's pulse.

"Right."

Huynh cursed that a potential enemy ViP couldn't be taken prisoner.

* * *

Inside the Academy's infirmary, Trombley was fighting another battle. One of words.

"Listen! These men need medical attention," he said as firmly as he could to the Tristainian officer, a nobleman, "They are no longer a threat to your Kingdom!"

The sound of injured men groaning was hard to ignore.

"Why should we allow them to be treated here?" the noble shot back, "They have invaded our lands!"

"Because healthy prisoners help a long way in peace talks!"

As the heated exchange went on, some of the Albion prisoners who were still conscious were wondering why these strange men were fighting that hard for them of all people. Finally, an elderly voice cut in.

"We shall allow the Albion troops to be healed," Osmond declared as he looked at the officer, "The Academy is, per the Royal Charter that governs it, an independent institution in which the headmaster's word is final if the Monarch is not present."

The Tristainian officer backed down, knowing that such a law was inviolable.

"Thank you headmaster!" Trombley said relieved before to his men who were carrying many wounded.

As the injured came in, it became quickly obvious that the infirmary, normally used to treat the occasional magical student injury, was far too small for an army of wounded and dying men. The deserted feasting hall was quickly repurposed as a medical annex.

Some of the Water magic students who had remained behind were helping out with the school's Water Mage healer. Even then, it was barely enough to stem the tide. Other mages were brewing potions as quickly as they could to try and help.

"Healer de Lafarge, I don't think I can keep this up," Montmorency said tiredly as she finished tending a wounded soldier, this one having been pierced by a bullet through the stomach. The girl was struggling to keep her last meal from going back up. Sweat trickled down her paling face as she caught her breath. Many of the other mages were showing signs of exhaustion. The kind-faced academy healer was standing over a stretcher with a bloodsoaked soldier, her wand shining as she chanted a spell.

"Go take a quick break," the healer ordered after finishing her spell, "Half of you go now."

The sound of boots began to echo closer.

"Are they bringing more wounded?!" another water mage exclaimed, half tired, half weeping.

Instead, it was uniformed soldiers. Their faces were stern and serious but showed no exhaustion, as if they had not fought a battle that day.

"Healer de Lafarge?" a feminine voice asked. It was their leader.

"Yes?" the healer responded, "I am Healer de Lafarge."

"Wonderful, I'm Lieutenant Abigail Harrison, 10th Mountain Division," the officer introduced herself, "My men and I are a medical platoon and we've been sent to assist with the injured. Another unit should arrive soon."

Many of the mages' eyes lit up as they heard the word 'medical'. De Lafarge and the others rested for a moment. The soldiers began to move around the room towards the wounded with the massive packs they wore on their backs. As they undid their packs, the students could recognize familiar things such as bandages and compresses. Some began to install simple beds. Other things were completely foreign for them as the soldiers began to treat the wounded.

Montmorency led out a breath. Her mind was barely keeping up with the past day's event. She had barely been able to assimilate the fact that it had barely been over a day that the coronation had been attacked and that Tristain was being invaded. She remembered Guiche leaving in a hurry. The blond teen was emptied eyed when Montmorency had last seen him. Her heart went out to him. Guiche, for all his flaws, had cared deeply for his mother. She did love the boy even if he was an incorrigible womanizer. She had briefly wondered if he had left for his family's estate or the capital.

More soldiers then arrived, Canadians this time. Healer de Lafarge stood up, her rest over and made her way to Lieutenant Harrison. The American was organizing the triage and medical efforts.

"Lieutenant Harrison?"

"Yes?"

"I am able to help you again," the healer said, "I have regained enough strength. Might I assist those who are grievously injured."

The lieutenant nodded.

"Very well, what of your students?" she asked, "Are they fit to help?"

Lafarge shook her head.

"No, many are too magically drained to help," the healer explained, "Those who can won't be able to do so for long either. Others are working as hard as they can to make potions."

The Lieutenant looked over the group. The students appeared tired but still looked lucid enough.

"I think we may be able to have use your students."

Montmorency was surprised when some of the outworlders gathered them in a nearby classroom.

She soon understood why as they began to give the students a crash course on basic bandaging. It was the best way they could help without burning themselves out.

But with the sheer amount of agony audible in the other room, no one was the least bit excited.

* * *

While the battle at the Academy died out, one of its students and her familiar were in a secretive room at the Royal Palace. The slowly dying rays of the afternoon sunlight filtered into the room.

"Any idea why her Majesty wants us here?" Saito asked lazily as he lounged in one of the chairs. Hayate had left earlier for the hospital wing to tend the wounded from the Cathedral attack and to help ready everything for the upcoming battle with his friends and colleagues.

"Probably because she wants to see her friends after everything that's happened lately," Louise answered, "I don't think her Majesty has had the time to rest in these past days."

"I see what you mean," Saito replied, "I think we got lucky though."

"Lucky?"

"I mean, we've been able to at least to rest since the attack."

Louise looked downcast.

"What is it Louise?" Saito asked worriedly, "Are you ok?"

The pinkette had tears in her eyes.

"It's because we're useless," she answered softly, "I can't do any magic to save my life except explosions."

She closed her eyes before feeling a pair of warm arms wrap around her.

"Explosions are useful in war Louise," Saito said warmly into her ear, "Remember what those soldiers said?"

She managed to crack a small smile.

"Thank you Saito," she said before her lips met his. The pair failed to notice the door opening until a light chuckle caught their attention.

"I see you two are always hopelessly in love with each other," Henrietta giggled she entered the room while Agnes and another Musketeer stood guard. Both Louise and Saito untangled themselves from each other, blushing before bowing respectfully.

"Your Majesty!"

"Please, make yourself at ease Louise-Françoise," the monarch commanded as she sat down, "I am merely here to rest with some friends."

"I am honored your Majest- I mean Henrietta," Louise replied happily. At that moment, a butler entered with glasses of wine.

"With all that is happening lately, I have been unable to rest and enjoy the company of friends," Henrietta said wearily before taking a warmer tone, "I've had the chance to discuss with Hayate when I visited the infirmary but I wished to see you both. As such, how are your studies going my dear Louise-Françoise?"

Louise hesitated to answer. Saito looked at her nervously as well. He remembered what she said about Void Magic and the Romalian Church. He chose to keep silent, not wanting to betray his girlfriend.

"We are friends, are we not? You need not be ashamed about your… difficulties for I will always support you," Henrietta gently said.

"It's not really that," Louise replied in a small voice, "It's more complicated."

She hesitated before continuing.

"Can you keep this a secret?" she asked, barely above a whisper, "Even if it meant your life could be in danger?"

"But of course Louise-Françoise!"

"Even it means that the Church could get involved?"

Henrietta paled slightly.

"What do you mean? Please, I will do what I can to help you."

Louise looked at Saito who nodded.

"I might be a Void Mage," Louise admitted, "and Saito might be the legendary familiar, Gandalfr."

The queen could barely believe the words that had come out from her oldest friend's mouth. Void Mages were legends lost to time. Something that only appeared in the tales about the days of the Founder himself. The same went for the Gandalfr who was as legendary as the lost element of Void. Yet… Henrietta could not believe her friend was playing with her for a fool or being mistaken. Louise's voice simply sounded truthful and hid no deceit.

"You have my word that the Church shall never hear of this," Henrietta swore, "On my honor as Queen."

"Thank you your Majesty!"

Louise's confession left one question in Henrietta's mind.

"How did you find out about this?"

"It's a long story, your Majesty," Saito answered, "Do you think we'd have the time?"

"But of course. The defense of the city is being organised by General du Poitier as we speak. He has insisted that I rest and promised that I can do so with no worries." There was only so much the Queen could do, and after that was done all she had done was pacing in the Royal Palace's war room until the general finally got the young monarch to go rest.

"Very well then."

The pair began to explain that they found about Louise and Saito's powers in the aftermath of the Tarbes expedition with M. Colbert. Because of that, the CIA and CSIS had placed them under watch to 'protect' them but both knew it truly meant. Not only them but also the Headmaster and Professor Colbert.

A scandalized look appeared on Henrietta's face. And they had not thought to mention this to her? Ever since they came here there had been no gaps in communication between each other. They'd kept her entirely up to date with everything they found both in her Kingdom and Albion- corruption, crime, and other terrible things. But they hadn't mentioned this? Something so monumental?

Even more, by the sound of it, they'd taken two of her citizens without informing her- something they'd expressly promised against as a condition of the arrangement. Louise, her lifelong friend. Saito, someone who'd been invaluable to her.

"How dare they?!" she exclaimed, "This is unacceptable! After all that you did for our nations!"

"Well, they did it," Saito simply said.

This revelation shocked Henrietta. Why had her allies acted in such a way?

"I will speak to Ambassadors Ambroise and Fitzgerald immediately. This… this travesty cannot go on!" The young queen said, her tone unwavering with tranquil anger, "You have my word that I will help you!"

"Thank you your Majesty!" Louise exclaimed happily.

Henrietta stood up and made for the door.

"Agnes, please summon the ambassadors," she ordered, "It is an urgent matter."

* * *

Nearly half an hour later, both Ambassadors Ambroise and Fitzgerald were standing in Henrietta's throne room. The young queen's face was hard. After the usual greetings, Ambroise was the first to speak.

"What is happening your Majesty?"

Fitzgerald bowed his head.

"I'm afraid that we might have to cut short this meeting," he apologized, "Our leaders don't want us moving around uselessly and endangering our lives. They'd rather have us stay at the embassies."

"Very well then. I shall not hold you any longer then needed," she said, venom lacing her words, and the Ambassadors were notably surprised. "Can you explain why have you treated M. Hiraga Saito and Lady Louise-Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière the way you did? Why have your CIA and CSIS kept the knowledge of Lady Vallière's powers to yourself? I demand explanations."

Both ambassadors looked at each other in confusion. They had no idea what she was talking about, or why she felt the need to bring it up with the country being invaded.

"I'm afraid we don't understand what you are talking about your Majesty," Ambroise replied diplomatically, "I have never been informed of such a thing."

"I've never been told anything about this situation as well," Fitzgerald added.

"The CIA and CSIS are part of your nations," Henrietta insisted, "Henceforth, they must have told you something."

Both men shook their heads.

"They operate independently of us," Ambroise replied, "They only tell us what they believe we need to know." Henrietta was momentarily stumped by those statements. After seeing their efficiency for so long, it was a sudden shock to learn that they didn't always communicate their findings.

"Is there anyway for you to know what is happening with your agents?"

Both shook their heads.

"I presume that they are too busy with the current invasion." Ambroise said. "Is this a matter of grave importance?"

Henrietta mulled that. Her Kingdom was being invaded, but if Louise was a Void Mage… it could mean many more things.

"Yes, it has the potential to be, especially to our war effort. I believe that I have told both of you about our Holy Founder Brimir and his powers. Those powers are from the lost Void element."

Both men nodded.

"He left heirlooms to each one of the ruling families of the Four Blessed Realms," she continued, "These heirlooms are artifacts of immense powers or so the legends say. Only a Void Mage descended from the Founder himself can use them."

"How does this fit in with Lady Vallière?" Fitzgerald asked, "Since following that logic, only a member of your house could use it?"

Henrietta shook her head.

"The House of Vallière is a cadet branch of the Royal House. In theory, should anything happen to me, Lord Vallière has the strongest claim to the throne."

Both men looked at each other, mentally noting everything they could. So apparently their agents had threatened a line of succession...not good.

"And if she is a Void Mage, as your people were as rude not to tell me, I could've given it to her to help her control her powers before this invasion. Having a Void Mage in my kingdom might have prevented the invasion all together! The legends state that Brimir's command of Void magic could destroy entire armies and change the course of entire wars."

That...was bad. Or maybe it was good. The ambassadors had no idea. They just knew that spooks did what they did for reasons and interests often unknown to them.

"The Church could have gotten involved had they heard of Lady Vallière's abilities," Henrietta continued, "It is no hidden secret that the Romalian Inquisition pursues Void Mages to bring them into serving Romalia and to control them. If they come to believe I hid a Void Mage from it, it would bring our courts in conflict."

That was a whole lot of information in a short time and a lot of potential trouble. A full blown diplomatic incident, even. The Ambassadors had to choose their next words carefully. At the moment, with an invasion upon the horizon, deflection seemed the best bet. "I assure you we will try and find out how this miscommunication came to be." Fitzgerald promised. His Canadian counterpart steered the conversation away.

"If what you say is true," Ambroise said, "Then that would mean that you would have this powerful relic?"

"Exactly."

"What is exactly is this relic, your Majesty? Is it too late?" Fitzgerald asked. They knew they'd have to report this all up the chain; not only would it be a diplomatic incident, but it was new information they would need to know.

"It would be the Founder's Prayer Book, and I do not believe so.."

Both men looked at each other in silence, their eyes betraying their surprise and slight disappointment. A Bible-like book was a powerful relic in this world?

"If this is such a matter of concern to you, we will be sure to bring it up with our leadership and intelligence agencies when practical. But as I'm sure you've noticed, the situation right now is precarious to say the least. But I'm sure our men had their reasons for doing what they did."

"Very well, I hope that we may be able to understand exactly what has happened," Henrietta answered, "Agnes, please bring in M. Hiraga and Lady Vallière."

A few moments later, the duo appeared flanked by Agnes.

"M. Hiraga, Lady Vallière, I must apologize for this whole situation with CSIS," Ambroise said politely, "You have my word that I'll do what is in my power to assist you."

"Oh, thank you Ambassador," Saito replied, surprised at the turn of events.

"I'm afraid I didn't how all of this happened so I can't say anything else," Fitzgerald added, "Please accept my apologies. I will do everything I can as well to clear up this misunderstanding."

Henrietta smiled as another musketeer entered the room, holding a small, ornate wooden chest.

"Louise-Françoise, I have a present for you."

Louise's eyebrow rose.

"What do you mean?" the pinkette asked in surprise.

"If it is true that you are a Void Mage," the queen said as the musketeer opened the box in front of Louise, "Than this relic of our Holy Founder shall be of great aid to you."

The mage picked up the content of the chest: a simple leather book. She held it reverently as she scrutinized the cover and rear of the book. She almost feared damaging the relic simply with her touch. Nothing was written on its cover and it looked only like a journal or diary.

"This is the Founder's Prayer Book. It is said that only a Void Mage can make use of its content. If you are truly one, it will be of great use to you."

"What does this book contain? If I'm not too indiscreet?" Fitzgerald asked, intrigued.

"It is said that this book contains all of our Founder's knowledge on Void Magic," Henrietta explained, "My tutors taught me that the Founder Brimir used magic to create this book and preserve all of his knowledge."

"Amazing," Ambroise said softly, "I am very pleased to be present to see such a thing."

"How powerful is this 'Void Magic'?" Fitzgerald asked quickly.

"It is said that Founder Brimir did deeds that our mages cannot possibly dream of," Henrietta explained, "Like I've mentioned earlier, he could turn entire battles and wars with one spell."

"You truly believe I'm a Void Mage your Majesty?" Louise asked, not daring to hope.

"Yes." Henrietta said, a warm smile on her face.

Saito grinned as Louise opened the book. Everyone was doing their best to concealed their excitement at such an event.

The silence in the room was almost deafening. Saito's jaw dropped while Louise's pink eyes went empty. Even the ambassadors were shocked at they saw.

The book was empty, its pages void of any writing.

"According to the legends, only a Void Mage could unlock the secrets hidden in its pages," Henrietta explained, "Brimir used his magic to seal its contents from prying eyes so only his worthy descendants with his Gift for Void Magic can access the knowledge hidden inside the Founder's Prayer Book."

"Ah, thank you your Majesty," Louise politely answered while her familiar looked annoyed. _'Why can't things be simple?'_ Saito mentally grumbled, _'Can't we get a break for once urgh?'_

Ambroise looked at Fitzgerald, their eyes showing the same expression of exasperation. It was more magical complications.

"Very well then," Fitzgerald finally said, "Is there anything else to discuss your Majesty?"

Henrietta pondered for a moment, a finger on her lipŝ.

"Have you gotten any more information from your leaders?" the Queen finally asked. She wanted to know if anything had changed.

Ambroise nodded.

"Yes, both have made public appearances to state their support to Tristain and her leaders," the Canadian ambassador stated, "Canada has enacted emergency measures to ensure that our forces reach Tristain as quickly as possible."

"America's armed forces are mobilizing and more reinforcements should arrive over the next few days," Fitzgerald added, "M. Trump is quite… enthusiastic about defeating Albion to say the least. I believe that you have heard the reports from today's battles?"

Henrietta nodded confidently.

"That your armies have blunted the Reconquista attacks on their positions." Henrietta nodded. "Tristain is especially grateful to you for saving the Academy."

Ambroise nodded while Saito couldn't help but let out a cry of joy much to Louise's embarrassment.

"Score: 2 points for the good guys! 0 for the bad guys!"

"Saito! Not now!" Louise sighed in exasperation. Her boyfriend was incorrigible at times.

"A place where the future of a nation is educated should always be preserved from evil," he said, "It was the least we could do."

"Any word from the other Kingdoms?" Ambroise asked, "Have they reacted to this assault at all?" Wars could spiral into larger conflicts easily, something they were just now considering after the troops had been sent out.

"I have sent envoys to Germania and Gallia to not intervene on behalf of Albion," Henrietta admitted, "I would hope they would support us out of self-interest, but we can't be sure. Gallia refused to let them enter their realm to discuss with King Joseph and it hasn't been long enough for Germania to respond."

"Well, you have our assurances we will not take kindly to either nation attempting to take advantage of your borders during this difficult time." Fitzgerald assured, "They will understand that any such action will warrant an intervention on our part." Those were very dangerous words, but they were true. North America was not willing to lose any ground they'd built up in the last year.

Just then, the doors opened. General Du Poitier entered flanked by his guards. A grave expression graced his stern face.

"Your Majesty," he bowed, "Albion's fleet is at Tristainia's gates..."

* * *

Aboard the Lexington, Cromwell was trying to rest in his cabin. The past few days had been tiring to say the least, and now it was compounded by the stress of this invasion. The siege on the coastal base had soured and was barely hanging on. He had not yet received news from the attack on the Portal either. So he prayed fervently to Brimir for guidance, respite and victory.

There had been small victories though. His smaller expeditions had seized supplies as they swept through the Tristainian countryside. The land's granary and warehouses were surprisingly bountiful, being well stocked with food. The Tristainian peasantry was stubborn however and still clung to the belief that Queen Henrietta would triumph over Cromwell's blessed armies. Certain towns had been made into examples…

However, Cromwell needed to seize the greatest jewel of Tristain: her capital. His main fleet had not run into trouble so far. The Tristainian Navy had refused to fight any prolonged battles with him. A knock interrupted his musings.

"Enter!"

A weary messenger entered the cabin before bowing.

"Lord-Protector! I bring news from the assault on the Academy and the Portal!"

"Report." Cromwell said tersely.

"The enemy has repelled our attacks," the messenger said nervously, "The army has been decimated and Viscount Wardes has been slain by the enemy."

There was a moment of silence as Albion's leader processed this information.

"WHAT?! How is this possible?!" he ranted, "Viscount Wardes was an experienced battlemage and leader of men. His forces were well trained and equipped! Not only that but we outnumbered them! There is no way that they could muster a large force to repel us on such short notice!"

"Well… the enemy's weapons were far more powerful," the messenger explained, "The survivors told us that they overpowered any defensive magic. That they swept us from the battlefield with great ease."

"Have they moved from the portal or their fortress on the coast?" Cromwell asked, slightly less agitated.

"No Lord-Protector, they have not moved far from their positions."

It reassured Cromwell. If his forces could get the capital, he could hold Henrietta hostage and force them into negotiating. It could break their will to fight as well. He still had hope he could force them from this world in one way or another and destroy the portal. It was him that would hold the fate of Halkeginia in his hand. Not some upstart queen or some heretical civilization from another a world!

He stood up from his seat and silently exited his cabin. In front of him was his prize: Tristainia.

"Ready the envoy."

* * *

Inside Tristainia's great walls, the sound of soldiers marching filled the streets. It mixed with the harsh cries of sergeants and officers barking orders. The inhabitants had been called up to help. Supplies were being carried, gates reinforced, streets fortified. Everyone dreaded the coming siege. The enemy still outnumbered them. The navy's ships had docked, their crewmen having finished the vital task of ferrying as many reinforcements as they could to defend their capital. Now these sailors were resting, something every soldier could defend as their comrades had worked hard to get them to the capital.

On one of the battlements, a pair of friends was looking out into the distance, seeing the ominous sight of the enemy's invasion force. Tabitha was reading a book to Sylphid while Kirche looked out in the distance.

"Well, it looks like I really can't go home now can I?" the redhead commented offhandedly, "Looks like I'm going to be stuck fighting here with you Tabitha."

"Thank you." her friend replied as she flipped another page of her book. A series of footsteps caught their attention. It was Guiche, accompanied by a group of Tristainian soldiers bearing his family's emblem. The teenager's appearance was a far cry from his school uniform. He was wearing a helmet and ornate plate armour over the purple and white Tristainian army uniform. A sword hung at his belt. He looked exhausted from the weight of the armour but his face was harder than anyone had ever seen it.

"Guiche? Are you alright in that armour?" Kirche asked, "It looks a little heavy for you."

"Yes," he answered, out of breath, "It takes a little getting used to but I'll be fine."

"Not fine," Tabitha muttered nonchalantly, "Angry."

Guiche glared briefly at the blue haired mage before sitting down on the wall and catching his breath.

"Where's Malicorne?" he asked wearily, "Have any of you seen him? He said he'd meet me here!"

Both girls shook their heads.

"I hope he's not stuffing his face somewhere!" Guiche snarled in exasperation, "Fighting on a full stomach is gonna slow him down."

"Maybe he's with his father's army?" Kirche suggested calmly, "Like you are right now."

The blond shook his head.

"He promised me he'd fight by my side to stop these monsters and avenge my mother! I hope he didn't run away!"

"I don't think he'd run away," the Germanian said, "He is a bit foolish to say the least but his heart's in the right place."

She hid the fact that she doubted that any mount would be able to quickly carry the rather well-fed boy for a long period time.

"He's loyal to his family," Tabitha added, "So he won't run."

"If you say so."

Guiche stood back up and began to bark orders to his men to move into positions on the battlements.

"Where's Montmorency?" Kirche asked suddenly, "Is she in the capital?"

"No I've told my beloved Montmorency to stay at the Academy," Guiche replied dramatically, "I promised hero that I shall return a hero. The outworlders' armies are mighty enough to defend it from Reconquista."

"Safe." Tabitha approved.

"A delicate flower like her should be spared from the horrors of war. Only brave young men should face the enemy."

If only he knew.

The students heard heavy panting. It was Malicorne who was trying to climb up the stairs to the walls. Behind him, soldiers followed him, unimpressed.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, panting, "It was a long walk to get here and I couldn't get on a cart or horse."

"Ah you are finally here Malicorne," Guiche said tersely, "We were waiting for you. The enemy won't."

The other boy winced slightly at his friend's tone. It was a lot harsher than usual. Everyone there noticed it as well.

"Did you hear the good news?" the blond Wind mage asked, trying to cheer up his friend, "Our allies are defeating the enemy's forces in battle!"

"Those are good news indeed, but the enemy is still at our capital's doorstep and we still need to destroy him!"

"Are you well Guiche?" Malicorne nervously asked, "You don't look fine."

"Of course I'm fine!" he snapped, "I just want to fight these bastards for what they did!"

Kirche swore she saw the blond boy angrily blink back tears. Tabitha kept her comment to herself as they looked out towards the massing Albion airships. A single one was flying their way.

* * *

Guiche wasn't the only one whose resolve had grown stronger. In the streets of Tristainia, Henrietta's people stood as one. They rallied to their young queen who had always been kind to them, who had found loyal allies to aid them, who had brought so much prosperity to their once meager lands, who had stood strong when the enemy had struck in their hour of joy and celebration.

Hundreds were leaving their houses and places of work, armed with hammers, pitchforks, whatever they could find to arm themselves. A strange new feeling had grasped the capital. Shopkeepers handed out their stocks of swords and daggers to whoever came first, taking whatever their buyer could give. Blacksmiths and armorers opened their forges to sharpen every blade they could and fix every suit of armour they could. Alchemists and herbalists emptied their stocks of potions, medicine and sent it to the various hospitals in the capital. Seamstresses sewed small banners and flags for their soldiers to carry with them. Complete strangers worked together to help as they could. Cart drivers carried soldiers and supplies around while commoner families helped fortify the city's streets despite the fading sunlight. The churches opened their doors as priests led the people in prayers. Some were even giving ceremonies to soldiers on the battlements.

At the Charming Fairies Inn, Scarron and his fairies had put away their costumes to wear simpler garb. All of them were pitching at the kitchen, making as many meals as they could. The door rang as it opened. It was probably another supply cart.

"Please wait a few moments!" Scarron said in his usually effeminate voice, "The next batch is about to come out of the oven!"

"Excuse me Master Scarron?" a feminine voice asked, causing the crossdresser to peer out of the kitchen. He saw a group of people, some well dressed, others not as much, "We wish to help you in the kitchen."

Scarron did a double take as he looked who had talked to him. The person talking to him appeared to be a well off young woman.

"You can come in!" his niece, Jessica, yelled, "A few more pair of hands can be helpful! We can also use more people to help load the next cart!"

"Thank you for letting us help. The other inns turned us away because they were full." the young mage said as they entered the inn.

But this scene was not only happening at their inn. The people were standing together for their nation. They knew the danger about to befall them, but they stood to face it. It was their beloved home… and they wanted it to stand. They were no longer just Queen Henrietta's subjects… they were the people of Tristain that were proud of their nation.

* * *

At the same time, in one of the Palace's wings, Louise sat in a chair. Her face was etched in concentration as she tried to make sense of the Founder's Prayer Book. The pinkette was on the verge of throwing the book away were it not a sacred relic.

Saito, on the other hand, was pacing around, deep in thought. His mind was running through every movie, anime, manga and book he could think of. Maybe one of them had an answer.

"Could you stop that?!" Louise suddenly screeched, her face red and eyes blurry with frustration.

"Sorry Louise," Saito apologized at he sat down, "You got any luck with that book?"

"No!" she snapped, "This is useless! This book is empty!"

The mage slumped in her chair in frustration.

"Calm down Louise, it'll be fine."

"No it's not! I can't do anything useful to help the Queen!"

"I'm pretty sure you could just blow up the bad guys." Saito pointed out with a grin, "I remember a lot of movies where the heroes saves the day by exploding the bad guy."

Even Louise's frown couldn't help but turn into a small smile.

"Do you think I can do it?"

Saito shrugged.

"You did knock out that assassin at the Coronation."

"Of course I did!" Louise beamed, "It was either that or an innocent man died!"

Her boyfriend grinned wider.

"Looks like someone's happier!"

"Idiot." Louise giggled, "I don't regret summoning you all of a sudden."

The pair kissed each other tenderly before letting go. The pair looked out the window and saw the sails of the Albion fleet. The inevitable was getting closer.

"Hey, why is that ship coming here?"

* * *

"It's under a flag of truce, your Majesty!" Truce? Henrietta remembered the tales the Americans and Canadians had passed on to her about the attack on the coastal base. They were in the Palace's war room.

"Let them in then. We'll hear them out."

"Understood," Du Poitier replied before he ordered his men to let the ship in and its passengers.

"Let us head to the Throne Room where we can properly greet him. I believe that Ambassadors Ambroise and Fitzgerald would like to be here. Please summon them."

Moments later, in the late hours and waning light of the first day, Henrietta was sitting upon her throne. The door swung open, revealing a blindfolded party under heavy guard by Agnes and the Musketeers. It was the Albion envoy and his retinue. As they arrived in front of the throne, their blindfold were removed. He carried a scroll with him.

"Greeting Queen Henrietta. I am Lord Lancaster, envoy to Lord-Protector Cromwell."

"It is a pleasure for us to welcome you here," Henrietta said, venom dripping with every word, "What business do you have in my kingdom on this day?"

The envoy bowed his head respectfully as he read from his scroll.

 _I, Oliver Cromwell, Lord-Protector of the Holy Republic of Albion, demand:_

 _-That Queen Henrietta I surrender her kingdom to Reconquista in exchange for the protection of her people._

 _-That Tristain abandon the false teachings of the Church of Romalia and embrace the true teachings of the Holy Founder as taught by the Lord-Protector._

 _-That Queen Henrietta I marry the Lord-Protector Oliver Cromwell and pledge loyalty to him._

 _-That the heretical nations from Earth withdraw from Halkeginia._

 _-That the Kingdom of Tristain surrender all of the Founder's sacred relics it has to the care of the Lord-Protector._

 _-That the people and lands of Tristain be put into service in Lord-Protector Cromwell crusades._

"Should you refuse these terms, Albion and Lord-Protector Cromwell will use every resource they have to wage a total war of conquest upon Tristain and its allies."

There was a brief silence once Lancaster had finished talking. Henrietta cleared her throat, her face hard.

"I must refuse these terms, Lord Lancaster. They are utterly unacceptable."

Lancaster's eyes narrowed as he glared at Henrietta.

"How are these generous terms unacceptable your Majesty? Our navy controls the skies and are at the doorstep of your capital! Our armies march through Tristain's countryside while yours cowers behind walls! Your allies's bastions in Halkegenia are besieged! Their armies are nowhere to been seen! Their leaders have fled beyond the portal!"

"Agnes, please allow the ambassadors to enter the throne room."

The doors swung open once more, revealing two men, one dark skinned and one fair skinned along with their guards.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Lord Lancaster," Ambroise said politely, "I am Ambassador Richard Ambroise of Canada. I will let my counterpart introduce himself."

"Lord Lancaster, I am Ambassador Thomas Fitzgerald of the United States of America. We overheard some pretty interesting things while you were talking with her Majesty."

The Albion envoy was caught by surprise by their appearance and almost casual demeanour.

"I believe that you were to declare total war upon us if her Majesty didn't submit to M. Cromwell, am I not mistaken," the American continued.

"Those were his words," Henrietta confirmed, "Unless if I misheard to due the past days' tiring events."

Lancaster's face seemed to regain color.

"Yes, those are the terms my leaders have sent," he said confidently, "The Republic's land and people are ready to do the ultimate effort necessary to spread the true teachings of the Founder and reconquer our Holy Lands. No war will be too much for our faith."

Ambroise sighed while Fitzgerald continued.

"Total war? The last time any nation declared such a thing on our nations and allies, they were completely destroyed."

"Indeed, Canada and the United States have won those wars and paraded in their capitals," Ambroise added with a small smile, "No one has done such a brazen declaration in nearly a century."

"Brimir shall guide the Holy Republic to victory," Lancaster shot back, "We have his Blessing. Besides, I have no words to say to you! Where are your leaders? Why have they left you here?!"

Fitzgerald shook his head.

"Lord Lancaster, our leaders have return to Earth to oversee our efforts to defend Tristain as well as other… more pressing matters," Fitzgerald replied diplomatically, "Their presence was not needed here."

"It is quite a shame that you chose to attack Tristain though," Ambroise added, "It is quite irritating for us to temporarily stop our mutually beneficial business with Queen Henrietta."

Henrietta nodded in agreement.

"Yes, to think that our growing efforts to work together in peace has to be stalled because of foreign aggression. It is quite annoying." The envoy looked slightly annoyed.

"May I remind all parties present that our army and navy sits outside your walls, and the only thing keeping them there is the Lord-Protector's good will?"

"Ah yes," Fitzgerald said flatly, "That little army. Our reinforcements should be more than able to relieve Tristainia within a week."

"If your armies can even last that long," Ambroise quipped nonchalantly, "Our leaders are committed to helping Tristain."

"We are quite open to discussions," Henrietta suggested confidently as both ambassadors nodded, "If you choose to withdraw your armies and fleets from Tristain. It would be quite possible for us to avoid needless bloodshed."

"You are quite foolish Queen Henrietta. Perhaps the Lord-Protector will break your naiveness." Lancaster replied, turning to the Tristainian monarch, "I do not believe that your so-called allies will be willing to sacrifice their people's blood for a small and insignificant realm."

Both ambassadors kept their composure as Fitzgerald produced his laptop.

"Our leaders have addressed our people earlier today about this little issue that is your invasion," the Canadian said, "It just happens that we have to show you their speeches."

"You will see just how determined our leaders are," Fitzgerald said as he opened his computer and quickly opened a pair of files; news reports of Trudeau and Trump's speeches. The envoy couldn't help but wonder what this small screen would show him. Images appeared until it settled on a moving image with sound of a blond, tanned old man standing behind a podium with a magnificent crest in a blue room with two flags on each side. Lancaster watched it and fear set in his heart. The man was the leader of the United States of America, President Donald Trump… and he was terrifyingly angry. Once he was done, a different image appeared, this time of a much younger man. Standing behind a different podium, Prime Minister Justin Trudeau of Canada was inside a stone building with red and white flags behind him. His tone was much calmer and more composed… yet it was serious and determined. Anger seeped through his words despite all of this. His defiant little boast showed his confidence in victory.

Sweat formed on Lancaster's brow as he struggled to control his expression after he heard their speeches. Both men, while radically in their approach to public talking, said the same thing: Canada and the United States were determined to defend Tristain. They had even summoned their allies to help! The envoy cursed internally.

"Lord Lancaster, does that address your doubts about my allies' willingness to fight?" Henrietta asked simply.

"You are making a grave mistake your Majesty!" the envoy retorted, "We have chosen to give you mercy! Yet you refuse it-"

"I believe that we no longer have anything to say to each other." she interrupted, an angry look on her face, "Please leave Lord Lancaster and tell your usurper lord that we refuse to submit to his terms. We shall fight to defend our kingdom."

"Very well." The man's words were laced with cold fury.

Lancaster and his guards were blindfolded once more before being led out of the palace.

* * *

"Queen Henrietta will not bow Lord-Protector," Lancaster reported after he bowed before Cromwell. Both men were on the Lexington and stood on her main deck. A snarl appeared on Cromwell as he processed the information.

"What a fool," he muttered darkly to himself, cursing her stubbornness. He was ready to fight for Tristain… when his forces were largely intact. The setbacks at both the base and the Academy shook his confidence.

"Are you not ready for this battle Lord-Protector?" a voice cut in, almost taunting him.

"Sheffield," he said before hesitating for a moment, "I am ready to lead the Republic to victory."

With that, Cromwell turned to his commanders.

"You may begin the siege."

Orders were signalled by flags and drums as Cromwell watched his army form up into an encirclement around Tristainia. The thundering sound of ship and siege cannons began to resonate as they began bombarding the capital's great walls and buildings.

Cannonballs rained down on the walls as Tristainian soldiers took cover behind their battlements. The city's inhabitants clung to each other, praying that they and their loved ones would survive this battle. Hands tightened around weapons, their wide-eyed owners knowing what was to come this night.

Tristainian cannons began to fire back at their enemy. The smaller weapons were outmatched by their counterparts' accuracy. Still, putting fire towards the Albion troops was reassuring.

From their position, Guiche, Malicorne, Kirche and Tabitha braced themselves for what was to come as they saw cannonballs land all around them. Some bounced off a shield that the blue haired mage had casted. Others crashed into the walls, blowing deep gashes into the masonry or landed into nearby buildings. The sound of breaking carpentry mixed with the acrid scent of smoke from small fires that had ignited.

Guiche grit his teeth, cursing the fact that he had to wait before fighting to avenge his mother.

* * *

Meanwhile, Louise could only watch the scene unfurling from one of the palace's windows. Smoke rose from various parts of the capital as she heard the sounds of battle.

"You ready to go Derf?" Saito asked his sword. The teen had borrowed a spare set of light armour.

"Always am partner!" the sword answered boastfully.

"Let's go Louise!"

Even if she was a poor mage… explosions were useful in war. That was how the Zero would contribute to defend her homeland and her people.

* * *

Henrietta looked out the window of her war room. She could see the flashes from the Albion ships' cannons and hear the thundering sound of their land based guns. The ships hovered ominously around the city walls as they laid into the great structure. She could make out the masses of soldiers marching towards the city walls. Her own ships were positioned above the city, ready to engage any that crossed the boundary. The ambassadors had left for the embassies to weather the storm of fire and iron that was unleashed upon Tristainia.

"Our forces are all in place your Majesty," Du Poitier reported soberly, "Cromwell has sent some of his ships back, likely to get reinforcements. There's only enough left that our Navy just might have a chance. At the very least, they can prevent Albion from immediately bombarding our ground forces."

Henrietta nodded. Before they'd departed, the Ambassadors had gave some some ill news- time. It would still take time before their forces reached the Capital to help. But they swore that if Henrietta could hold Albion back till then, victory was assured.

That would be a hard battle. They were outnumbered, their troops less experienced, and there was nowhere else to retreat. If they couldn't hold for a day, then their flag would cease to fly over the castle _forever_. But she had faith. Faith in her troops. Faith in her allies. Faith that the Founder would recognize Cromwell's wickedness for what it was and guide his true descendents to victory. She knew it. She could feel it in her very being: it would be hard, but they would prevail.

"So it begins." She declared softly.

 **Author's note: Hope you enjoyed it. It's gonna be a night to remember in Tristainia…**


	14. Chapter 12: A Night to Remember

**Disclaimer: FoZ/ZnT belong to the departed Noboru Yamaguchi and whoever inherited the I.P.. Any real life organisation/person is merely being used in a fictional non-profit way. Special thanks to Trainalf for working on this with me and to Karaya for making that 1st Cav is mentioned right.**

 **Author's note: Here's the new chapter. I hope you enjoy it. I've got a few explanations**

 **First off: your allies are always fighting for freedom and liberty… even if it's not the case. The other thing is that you can't thrust democracy on a society that is largely illiterate and used to a feudal/authoritarian system… it's not gonna last long or be very healthy or be very stable. People will just vote for the strongest guy around. The other thing is that Canada and that the US won't topple a friendly and cooperative leader/regime.**

 **Also… the average age for a Canadian Corporal is 20-21 with Lieutenants being slightly older at 22 to 27 roughly. Recruits can join at 16-17 for basic training with parental consent. So Siesta hooking up with a Canadian soldier wouldn't be abnormal either.**

 **A Night to Remember**

The sun was beginning to set, casting the light over Tristain's largest city in an eerie orange. Torches were already being lit in anticipation for the coming night. The defenders of Tristainia could watch only in surprise as they saw Reconquista's fleet continue moving towards their city's battlements. Some ships had already crashed or retreated from counter fire, but more took their place.

"Is Cromwell that desperate to seize the city?" Henrietta asked as she stood next to General du Poitier on the Palace's walls. "The sun is setting- his men would have to fight in the dark."

"So it would seem. He probably wishes to seize the city before our allies arrive." du Poitier answered, "Admiral de Châteauneuf has left for his flagship."

Henrietta nodded as she saw the flashes of Tristainian cannon lit up along the walls. They thundered defiantly against the approaching mass.

Battles were rarely fought at night in Halkegenia. It was a difficult affair to coordinate troops and ships in the darkness and few leaders dared risk throwing themselves forwards in such hazardous conditions; friendly fire was even more likely in the dark of night.

Cromwell must have heard of the defeats that his forces suffered against Earth. It was the only reason she could think he'd start a battle that most certainly would continue into the night. He was desperate.

But a desperate enemy was the most dangerous.

* * *

Inside the American embassy compound, the special forces teams was gearing up from the compound's well stocked armory. They were going to help defend the capital tonight in their own way. Snipers made sure their scopes were accurate, night visions goggles batteries were checked and explosives were primed. Radios frequencies were being run through, making sure that the Americans, Canadians and British teams were perfectly synchronised.

If Albion came through the walls… they would run into lethal surprises, courtesy of Earth's elite.

* * *

"Day or night men… we will defeat them!" Guiche declared passionately as he looked at the enemy forces before the walls. There had to be tens of thousands sounding the whole Capital, and at least 10,000 just in front of them- Reconquista troops waiting to break through the walls. They were just beyond the range of his musketeers' weapons but the nearby cannons were already firing at the enemy airships.

"Mm-maybe you shouldn't stay too much in front," Malicorne stammered, "You might get hit before you can fight."

"I have faith that the walls will shield me," Guiche retorted, "I will not hide behind my men!" Beside him, those same men were looking at him with the same admiration they did his father. At this moment, the two were hardly indistinguishable.

"Why are their ships not stopping?" Kirche suddenly asked as she looked up, "They're going to fly over the city at this rate!"

A group of frigates were flying towards their segment of the walls. The ships began to turn on their broadsides.

"Everyone take cover!" Malicorne shouted to his unit before noticing that Guiche was still standing, "Guiche get-"

The sound of cannon fire cut out the boy's sentence. Everyone closed their eyes as they heard the whistling sound of cannonballs. Except that the impact wasn't against stone… but wood.

"Our fleet is here!" one of the soldiers exclaimed joyfully. One of the Tristainians squadrons had arrived to support them. The thunder of cannons was above them as the ships exchanged fire. Occasionally, an offensive spell would fly between the vessels.

The ships closed in a deadly ballet as they circled above the battleground just in front of the walls. Musket fire echoed as both squadrons got in range. Spells began to fly as well. The Tristainians had picked up a few dirty tricks from their Earth trainers.

"Ready. Aim. Fire!" an officer shouted out on one of the Tristainian ships. The thunderous volley streak across the skies before hitting their mark: the command deck of one of the Albion frigates. The great wheel that controlled the ship was shattered and some of the officers were struck by Tristainian musketballs. The frigate fell out of formation. In the confusion, it kept moving, passing by the broadside of a Tristainian ship. Who punished the Albion ship thoroughly as a full salvo tore through the ship's hull, one cannonball impacting with the precious windstones that kept the ship aloof. The frigate fell out of the skies before the walls of Tristainia, her crew crying out in horror.

Meanwhile, Guiche and Malicorne were shouting orders to their men, the enemy having closed enough for to be in range. The sight of a crashing ship, despite the horrendous loss of life, gave them some extra confidence as they stood their ground. Volleys of muskets thundered, their flashes illuminating the walls against the dimming sunlight.

Men fell as they were struck by musketballs, their cries resonating across the battlefield. A horn blared from the skies above… it was the sound of the Griffin knights who had come to assist!

* * *

De Châteauneuf grimly looked from the deck of his flagship, the _'Royal Protector'_. Despite the darkness that had fallen on Tristain, the Reconquista ships refused to disengage from battle with his ships. In the distance, he could see some of his squadrons still exchanging fire with the enemy's.

So far, the enemy hadn't thrown in its heavier ships. The Tristainian admiral reasoned that manoeuvring such large ships at night was risky. Less manoeuvrable meant more chances of accidents happening.

Many of his ships had sustained damage and De Châteauneuf issued standing orders that a heavily damaged ship should break off so that her crew could join the ground defence afterwards. He glanced over to another part of the line where he could see a badly mauled squadron fighting off the enemy as best as they could. Remembering his maps… that was the squadron led by the _Defender_.

* * *

The _'Defender'_ and her two squadron mates were fighting as best as they could. They had already crippled an enemy squadron and were now fighting another one. The battles were starting to take their toll.

"Captain!" The first mate shouted as he climbed up the stairs to the command deck, "Most of our cannons are destroyed!"

The man had a bloodied bandage wrapped around his head while his ragged clothes were drenched in sweat.

"Very well M. Lépine," Captain de Boeck replied stressfully, "Have the fires put out?"

"Yes sir! Though we don't how much longer the ship can fight! The hull is barely holding together and the crew's running out of wood to fix the damage!"

De Boeck grimaced as he looked at his ship's deck. Scorch marks, blood stains and holes scarred the wooden deck while men were still fighting with the few remaining cannons and their muskets. Spell fire flew around as well. Some hit their mark, others slammed into magical shields.

"What of the rest of the squadron?"

Cannonfire resounded in the background as the other ships traded fire with the enemy. Fire lit up their decks as their crews fought both flames and foe.

"They're as bad as us sir."

De Boeck frowned. He didn't like the decision he was taking but he had no choice. The enemy had already inflicted severe damage to his ships. Holes were evident as they could see the light of lamps filtering through the damaged hulls.

"Signal for the squadron to retreat to the docks! The walls' cannons should be able to cover our retreat. We are retreating!" He yelled to his own crew.

"Yes sir!"

The First Mate barked out orders before a flag signalling their retreat was hoisted on the top mast. Wind mages used their magic to help propel the Tristainian ships faster as they changed course and turned to port.

Behind them, the Albion squadron that had engaged them followed them haphazardly, not bothering to maintain formation. It struck De Boeck as he looked back at his pursuers. It was almost amateurish.

Cannon fire resonated as a salvo from some of the wall mounted cannons slammed into the ship leading the pursuit, hitting her powder magazine and causing her to detonate.

Cheers rose from the battered crews as they saw the rest of the squadron break off their pursuit, the ships almost colliding as their captains turned them around without coordination. After a few moments, the _'Defender'_ and her squadron docked. Many of the capital's docks were still empty, their ships having not yet returned from the battle. De Boeck stood near one of the gangplanks as he and his surviving officers were guiding the evacuation of the wounded crewmen.

"Get these men out carefully! Hurry up!"

"Captain!" a voice shouted, "We can help you carry the wounded!"

Looking to the source of the voice, de Boeck saw a line of carts and wagons lit by torches and surrounded by commoners led by a large man. The people began to move towards the gangplanks to help the wounded. Others were waiting with wooden planks and tools, ready to help with emergency repairs.

As the last casualty was carried off, the captain walked onto firm land and saw a group of guards escorting an older man… Admiral de Châteauneuf. De Boeck saluted his commander.

"Excellent work out there captain," the old man droned in his usual monotone way, "Your squadron has done its duty well."

"Thank you Admiral," de Boeck replied tiredly, "It was a difficult battle but we have done our best."

"Yes, you and your crew are to rest for now. We will have need of you on the ground later on. Albion is pressing its attack on the ground despite nightfall and every able-bodied man is needed to fight."

"I understand. Thank you Admiral."

As de Boeck walked away, he looked back at de Châteauneuf.

"Her Majesty has asked me to thank every crew for their bravery on this day as well."

"It's our duty," the captain replied, "How many ships did we lose?"

"6."

"By Brimir."

Two squadrons… one third of the fleet. Hard… but not catastrophic.

"Albion has lost as many ships captain," the admiral replied, "Many have been crippled if the reports are true."

It surprised de Boeck slightly. Albion's navy was well known for having skilled captains and crews. How could his fellow Tristainians have held up so well?

"It seems that the rumours that Reconquista has been purging their army and navy were true," De Châteauneuf remarked as he left.

* * *

Cromwell tensely watched the battle from the deck of the _Lexington_ with some of his generals _._

"Lord-Protector, you must rest," pleaded one of them, "You cannot allow to exert yourself so much." The Priest who'd overthrown the Tudor's had barely slept in the last 48 hours.

The general was met with a withering glare from Cromwell.

"Do you think that our Holy Founder allowed himself such frivolities when he first led our people to salvation? Do you think I would allow myself to rest when my presence is most needed?!" Cromwell ranted, "To rest now is to insult Brimir's name and show weakness in the face of his Trials."

"No-no Lord-Protector!"

He could see smoke rising from Tristainia as his cannons bombarded the city and its walls. A orange glow permeated the city, fires having erupted from the bombardement. His frigates had forced the Tristainians ships to retreat and they began to shell the defenders on the walls.

Despite all of this, progress was not as fast he wanted. His men had yet to breach the defenses despite an all out attack. Time was of the essence. Cromwell did not wish to expend so many lives in taking Tristain when they could better fight against truly dangerous opponents like the Germanians or Gallians.

All he needed was to capture Henrietta and force her to surrender. A voice broke his musings.

"Lord-Protector, we bring news from the battle," an aide said.

"Very well, what is the situation? Have our forces reached the walls?"

The messenger shook his head.

"No, the enemy is keeping them at bay. They are fighting harder than we expected."

Cromwell silently cursed these people's stubbornness. He was the one that Brimir had chosen to lead His followers. Why didn't they bow to him already?!

"We are losing more men than we thought," the messenger continued, "However-"

"Do you have any good news?!" Cromwell snapped, "Defeatism insults Brimir's will!"

"Y-yes Lord-Protector! Our sappers and Earth mages' efforts are going well! The Tristainian navy has abandoned the skies to us!"

This seemed to calm down the agitated leader.

"Lady Sheffield will return with additional forces and supplies within two days. That will offset any losses we may suffer." Cromwell spoke to himself as he remembered his assistant's suggestion, "And tip the balance in our favour."

"Indeed Lord-Protector."

* * *

Night fell upon Tristainia for it had been already 2 hours that the armies and navies clashed. Despite the darkness, the fighting continued. Cannonballs, magic and musket fire rained upon both armies. In the skies above, the Reconquista fleet still lent their firepower to the siege. The ships were not alone however. Dragon riders were fighting as well, facing Tristain's Griffon, Pegasus and Manticore knights.

A loud roar filled the skies as Duchess Valliere rode her manticore familiar, Camille, against the enemy. She let loose a blast of wind from her sword wand towards an dragon rider, connecting with her target and knocking the rider off.

"Duchess Valliere!" one of her wingmen shouted, "We have a direct opening towards one of the enemy's ships!"

"Follow me!" she ordered as she dove towards the ship, "This is our chance!"

"Yes milady!"

The trio of manticore riders dove in, aided by the dark skies. Musket fire rang out… but towards the walls. It seemed that the enemy had its entire attention on the defenders there.

' _Wonderful_.' the duchess thought as she began chanting the incantation for her most powerful spell: Wind Fang. The roaring wind began to coalesce into a dangerous dark vortex before flying towards one of the enemy's frigates.

The effect was tremendous. The lethal fang filled, tornado torn ship and crew apart as it impacted its target. Debris and fire rained from the skies into the ranks of men underneath, killing many that couldn't dodge in time.

A series of explosions rocked a nearby ship as it caught on fire. Pegasus knights rose from their successful attack run led by Duke Valliere. A terrible creaking sound soon followed as the burning ship began to break apart in the skies, her crew overwhelmed by the flames.

"That's one more victory to our name gentlemen!" the duke roared triumphantly as he watched the ship fall out of the sky.

Meanwhile, the Griffin knights were dueling with the Albion dragon riders, neither side holding back. The Griffin knights fought bitterly to avenge their honour that was tarnished by Wardes' betrayal of their queen. Mounts and riders fell from the skies as magic flew back and forth in a deadly show. There was no mercy as both side knew the stakes of this battle.

The duchess and her wingmen regained altitude, rejoining the rest of the Manticore knights. The battle was far from decided but every action that the Vallieres took was one that helped protected what they held dearest: Their beloved daughters. There was no way that any them, given their relationship with the Royal Family, would be able to have any mercy from Reconquista. Not talented Eleonore, not frail Cattleya, not weak Louise.

If Tristain fell… if they failed, the duke and duchess knew what terrible things would befall on their children. The three would die fighting for their kingdom, their family and their friends at the best… the alternative was simply unthinkable for their parents.

And so they fought on for their children to spare them such fates.

* * *

"FIRE!" Guiche roared as his unit unleashed another volley of musket fire. Despite their slowly thinning ranks, he and his men held fast. By now, he could make out the distinct silhouette of ladders in the enemy's lines. His men's fire hit some of their bearers, but more took their place as they rushed the walls while under cover from their allies.

As the Albion soldiers planted their ladders in the ground and slammed them against the walls, they could still hear musket fire raining on them. Men fell but more took their place. As they began their ascension, they noticed petals falling down on them. As the petals landed, they turned into a slippery liquid.

"OIL! GET OFF THE LA-"

Screams of pain erupted as a fireball lit up the oil slicks before being blown forward by a gust of wind. The ladders broke as flames consumed them while burning men fell down to the ground, causing their comrades to scatter.

"Burn you bastards!" Guiche roared as he summoned more oil.

* * *

Despite the bravery of the troops, the inevitable had happened: the walls had failed on multiple sides of the city. In some places, they'd been scaled and captured by Albion troops, who now ran along their entire length hoping to capture the Capital's entire perimeter. Swords clashed as men fought for control of the battlements. Muskets and tools were being used as clubs while broken stonework was hurled at the enemy. The Tristianians fought with fire in their hearts for their homes.

Others sections of the wall had been brought down by cannon fire or Earth Magic. Explosions rang out as cannons and their powder ignited in the battlements, robbing the Tristainians of their counter-battery ability. Every 5 minutes it seems the Tristain commanders were getting word of another section of wall captured or collapsed.

But they endured. Even as the walls collapsed all around them, troops and cannons on the still standing sections continued to fire as much as they could while their numbers withered. Tristain troops wielding pikes and muskets formed up tightly around the breaches. When the first Reconquista troops came screaming and charging through the cap, they were met with volley fire and walls of sharp pointy steel.

But they'd gotten through, and the assault on the rest of the wall hadn't let up. Soon, the fighting would move into the streets.

* * *

"Damn." Guiche swore as the wall started to collapse a distance down to their right. The Albion troops below them immediately started moving towards it. He suddenly saw Verdandi run up to him. The mole looked agitated but Guiche understood it.

Sappers were close to the base of his wall section.

"Every man off the wall!" he ordered, his voice amplified by magic, "The enemy is undermining us!"

His men broke into a run as they abandoned their position before reforming in a street near the walls. Malicorne and his men followed suit as well. They barely had time to catch their breaths that an explosion almost knocked off their feet. In a thunderous crash, the wall collapsed before them.

"Ready yourselves!"

Magic cleared the rubble, and the first Reconquista troops charged through the breach. Musket fire slammed into the first wall of shields that came in. Guiche summoned golems that charged into the Albion troops, hacking and slashing the first ranks and breaking them up so that another volley of musket fire felled more invading troops.

"Hold them back, men!" Guiche urged worriedly, "Do it for our people!"

Malicorne's unit had also taken up positions next to Guiche's and were firing back as they could. A fireball impacted directly in front of the incoming hordes before being blown back into the ranks of the Albion troops.

"The fire of Germania shall punish your arrogance!" Kirche declared proudly while Tabitha, circling above on Sylphid, looked on passively as the small mage kept her eyes open for any danger.

Both sides' aerial combattants had largely withdrawn for the time being in order to rest. The battle had taken its toll on them as the fallen mounts and riders littered all over the capital.

* * *

The fighting was vicious as the Tristainian Army tried to plug the gaps. With shields and magic to protect them from the walls of pikes, the sheer mass of surging Albion bodies were pushing them back. Reconquista mages boldly stepped forward first and broke the plugs with magic. The Tristainian commanders despaired with every reported breach, weary of spreading their rapidly dwindling men too thin. Several breaches went undefended as hordes of screaming Albion soldiers dashed over the ruined walls.

Having lost several hundred approaching and capturing the wall, the first Albionian troops finally made it into the city streets. Many moved to attack the defenders from behind. A few hundred surged to the center of the city, where the Royal Palace and the Embassies lay.

Victory was in their grasp… or they thought.

Earth Special Forces moved to counter them. In the shadows, the elite men of three armies moved in silence to pre-scouted vantage points, their stay in the past months in Tristania having been put to good use.

Albion mages and unit leaders began to fall in the streets leading to the castle and embassies, shot by an invisible enemy that refused to let up. Every now and then, a burst of accurate musket fire would decimate a rank of men, their cries of agony and death throes shaking the Reconquista troops' resolve.

Soon it was too much and men broke and ran away from this unknown threat. It was precious bought time but elsewhere, Tristainian and Albionian soldiers fought bitterly for every inch of street, alleyway and building. The sound of metal clashing rang throughout the city. By now, nearly 2,000 Albion troops were either on the wall or had come through the gaps. The Tristainians were holding them at the edges of the city, and most of those who passed ended up getting shot, but the situation wasn't tenable. One side would break soon, and all three parties knew which one it would be.

* * *

As midnight passed and the date changed in a city alight with fire and already flowing with blood, midnight passed at the portal with as much light and noise but not as much violence. Reinforcements were still streaming in through the portal, and portable floodlights and headlights from hundreds of vehicles kept the area around the portal and academy bright as day.

The Canadian mechanized troops that had arrived earlier and taken part in the defense of the portal had already reformed and left. They would be bypassing the Capital and continuing straight to the base to reinforce and help drive off the so-called Albion siege. The gathered American troops, a battalion from the 10th Mountain Division, had set up a search and destroy mission, moving out to capture or kill the few hundred Albion stragglers that had escaped the battle. The other Canadian troops that had arrived, including the helicopter equipped 3rd Battalion of the R22R, were reforming up after the chaotic crossing over and were waiting for instructions.

That would be coming from the command post being hastily set up on Academy grounds with the headmaster's blessings. The 2nd Canadian Division had already transferred most of its headquarters personnel and equipment: Brigadier General Carignan had arrived with her staff. The officers and headquarters of the American 2nd Brigade of the 10th Mountain Division had been flown in quickly to Montreal International Airport and were coming through and setting up too. All this before their subordinate units had even finished coming through.

It was during this rapid influx of regulars and reservists that something extraordinary was noticed: The portal had gotten shorter.

No one understood how… but the trip from Earth to Tristain was noticeably shorter. Normally it was a journey of around 3 minutes by vehicle. Now though, it only took a third of that. The supply companies were the only one who noticed since they transversed it regularly. The change was so sudden that there'd been two rear endings before the fact dawned on them.

"If this is true," General Carignan said to her staff and American colleagues, "We'll be able to launch Operation Northern Relief much earlier than planned." She was meeting with the American brigade commander and some of her own regiment and brigade commanders to make theirs plans. A map of the country lay on the table before them. "Are the reconnaissance drones ready to be deployed?"

"We had them sent first." The American Colonel from the 10th Mountain said. "The station is being set up now." The 10th Mountain Division Aviation Brigade had a dozen drones in it for reconnaissance, something the Canadian Division just couldn't match. A few of those drones, and the majority of helicopters from the entire division, had been cleared to take part in the operation.

"I want eyes on the capital as soon as they're set up. We need to assess the enemy's progression there. The rest of your assets?"

"Convoys are driving up from Longueuil. Whatever rotar wings we had airworthy are at CFB St. Hubert waiting for a chance to get driven through."

"What about our assets?" She turned to one of own own subordinates. "Reserve and regular."

"The 4/22 is ready to go as well as the 2nd Field Artillery Regiment," he reported, "The 1/22 has already left for Clément-sur-Mer but the 2/22 is ready to go. 3/22's doing a few final checks on their helicopters but they'll be ready soon. The 12e Régiment blindé's C Squadron should arrive in the next few hours though with the latest development with the portal, it might be faster than planned."

That meant tank support in the shape of 21 Leopard 2 tanks.

"What about the 2nd Brigade of the 1st Cav?" the general asked the American officers.

"They'll be in Montreal tomorrow night at best. But they'll need at least a day after that to get organized and get through the portal" The 1st Cavalry Division could be anywhere in 72 hours, but that estimate accounted for the entire world. On the same continent, it'd be even faster, and there was no shortage of rail lines linking the US and Canada. Many Canadian rail lines had be requisitioned by the Canadian government while the roads in Montreal were cordoned off for military use.

"Fixed wing assets?"

"They're on the ground like the helicopters. We're just waiting for an opportunity to send them through. They were scheduled first but got pushed back. To be honest, that portal is strangling us here." Both nations were trying to bring in men, vehicles, and aircraft all at once, but with how small that portal was and the streets surrounding… efforts were frustrating to say the absolute least.

"We'll prioritize the ground forces for now. What is the situation in Montreal?"

Earlier that day, social media had flared to life as certain far-left groups in the city's large student population called for protests against the war effort and martial law. Of course, more reasonable students had naturally called the police on those groups and their leaders. It was not the time to cause trouble for the authorities… Albion was already doing a splendid job of it.

"Nothing that would impact our reinforcements or supply lines. The Montreal police and the Sureté du Québec have done their job very well in keeping the peace."

"Excellent. Back to Halkeginia then. How long would it take for the drones to be above the capital?"

"At this distance, an hour or so."

"And they can attack targets?" She asked. The American Colonel shook his head.

"They're reconnaissance only."

"Well, we'll have eyes on the city at least and we'll be able to help our teams operating in the capital." The Special Forces teams from all three nations were relaying information directly back to the new command center, and it wasn't looking good. The city walls were starting to fail, and their allies were outnumbered 2-1 and would very soon lose control of the air. The ground situation was bad with the Tristainians constantly engaged. Even civilians had begun to join the defense according to certain reports.

It was however not time to panic but time to work. The Joint Staff for the Halkeginian Command had work to do to win the upcoming battles. And work they did.

They worked tirelessly through the night coming up with a viable strategy as men and vehicles streamed through the portal only a short distance away. Difficulties cropped up immediately.

By the accounts on the ground, the enemy had airships up above the capital. The obvious answer was shooting them down, but sending a giant hunk of burning wood crashing into the city and potentially on your allies wasn't a good idea, especially when it could very well explode and start a city destroying fire. But as benign a threat as cannonballs would be, they couldn't be ignored.

Planning resources was the one thing they were short on. They had maps of the country, the borders, and all the relevant terrain. But a detailed map of the Capital, they did not. The Palace and the military installations near its center yes, but the hundreds of streets, small alleys, and pathways that made up the labyrinth where the fighting was likely to take place? Nothing.

The American Colonel had made a morbid joke upon seeing the rudimentary map they had as 'Fallujah 1523'. It wasn't that ugly a statement; they already knew most of the streets would be too narrow for vehicles. This would be infantry urban fighting. Heavy urban fighting.

Coordination, at least, wouldn't be a problem. The military attaché for the British diplomatic party still in the Capital would act as a relay, letting each side know what the other was doing.

Plans were debated, crafted, and fine tuned well into the night.

* * *

"Your Majesty!" General du Poitier exclaimed as he saw his queen still standing on the Palace battlements, "You must rest! When was it that you last slept?!" In the distant, cannons continued to roar. The Albion airships hadn't approached the Palace yet; they were still focused on the walls or the remains of the Tristainian Navy.

"I will not rest until this battle is over!" she retorted, "How does our army fare?"

"We are holding them back. Our prayers are not unanswered," he stated, weariness in his voice, "We've noticed that some of their forces have been driven back with no reason save for men falling dead. I suspect that our allies have lent their guards to help us. But Your Majesty- we won't be able to hold them at the walls."

Henrietta's face hardened.

"Will we be able to hold them in the streets?" she asked.

"Until morning at worst, until noon at best your Majesty, possibly enough time for the other lords to arrive with their armies." That was only if they marched all night, and the General knew how helpful tired troops would be. Little help was better than nothing though.

"Very well. Evacuate as many bystanders as you can to the Royal Palace. I do not wish for any innocents to perish needlessly."

"Understood."

"Have we gotten word from the Ambassadors about the relief forces?"

Henrietta shook her head.

"We know that large numbers of their fighting men are being mustered before coming here to help us and that many have arrived in Tristain. Beyond that I have no news. They have promised help, and I trust their words as honest."

"I see." he nodded.

"General?"

"Yes your Majesty?

"When was it when you last slept?"

Du Poitier couldn't help but splutter.

* * *

Saito clenched his teeth as he looked into the city. Despite the darkness, flames and torches lit up the city as he heard the sounds of battle in the distance.

As much as he wanted to fight, Henrietta had ordered Louise to remain behind to figure out the inner working of the Founder's Prayer Book. Her familiar, on the other hand, was pacing impatiently.

So much was going on out there, but they weren't taking part in it like they desperately wanted.

* * *

Guiche heaved heavily as he wiped sweat off his brow. His helmet lay discarded on the bloodied ground while his uniform was dirtied by blood and grime. Bodies littered the ground in front of his unit. They had made the enemy pay dearly but it came at a price. Half of Guiche and Malicorne's units had been decimated in the last hours of fighting. Many were walking wounded that clung to their weapons.

"Guiche!" Malicorne shouted hoarsely, "Are you sure we can't retreat?!"

He was met with an almost feral snarl.

"NO! WE ARE NOT RETREAT-"

"Milord!" another soldier yelled as he tackled Guiche. Both fell face first in the dirt as a volley of musket fire sailed over their head. Both stood up to the sound of others falling in agony.

"GUICHE! By the Founder, are you alive?!" Malicorne shouted, tears in his eyes as he ran over to his fallen friend.

"We can't stay here Guiche! There's too many of them!" Kirche shouted from nearby.

"I won't run away!" he roared as he summoned more of his Valkyries and hurled them towards the enemy's ranks. A wind blast knocked a few of the Albion men off their feet as the golems hacked them up.

"Retreat." Tabitha said as she and Sylphid landed next to the Tristainian soldiers, "Too many of them."

Guiche ignored them as he continued to bellow orders to stand fast, his voice hoarse from hours of battle.

An explosion knocked the young noble off his feet. As he came to, he saw the rushing horde of Albion troops close on him but before he could act, the ground collapsed beneath them, swallowing the screaming hoard and crushing them under the weight of the earth. Those behind fled as a voice roared out.

"Guiche! Why have you not retreated!?"

His commander had arrived on his horse accompanied by his guards. All appeared winded as they surveyed the scene.

"Fath-Marshall de Grammont!" Guiche spluttered as he picked himself off the ground.

"By the Founder!" the marshall shouted, "Why are you still here!? The walls and gates have fallen!"

Guiche looked indignant.

"We cannot retreat! If the enemy pushes-"

"There are times when you need to retreat! There's no point in dying because of vengeance!" The head of the Grammont family turned to the men he'd lent out to his youngest son. "Men, we're retreating to the inner streets to hold them there! The same applies to you M. de Grandpré! Guiche you are retreating as well… that is an order!"

His son was about to protest some more but the marshall's glare shut them off.

"You want to avenge your mother?! Follow me!"

Kirche and Malicorne blew sighs of relief as they began retreating.

* * *

The battles now raged on in the narrow streets on the capital where the advantage of numbers was nullified. Pike and musket lines held firm at choke points against the oncoming rush of Albion troops. Barricades were set up hastily whenever time was possible by both soldier and civilian. Men took up positions in the houses, shops and other buildings as they fought in the battle for their lives.

But the lines weren't clean or entirely effective. To anyone looking at the city from above, the distance down each street the barricades were set was inconsistent. Any mischievous mage or soldier could cut through a building on one street and come out behind a barricade on another. Some streets and alleyways were undefended or even ignored all together. Attacks and counter attacks were so savage that certain locations changed hands multiple times. Such was the chaos in Tristainia.

Earth mages were especially prized right now as they could use their powers to raise impromptu dirt walls. Every one of them were working hard to defend the city.

Guiche was chanting, summoning the nearby rubble to set up a barricade to slow the advancing Albion troops as their men carried broken masonry. Kirche was using her magic to give him light to work.

Unfortunately, in the confusion, Malicorne and Guiche's units had gotten separated during a hectic retreat. Guiche desperately wanted to find his friend but there was no time.

The sound of hooves signalled that Marshall Grammont was returning to inspect the line with his guards.

"Get out of here!" a harsh voice shouted in Albionese, "The enemy's outflanked us!"

The mages and their soldiers looked over their heads in surprise, Guiche and Kirche almost falling over of shock. Marshall Grammond's eyes widened in surprise as he saw what exactly was addressing him. A group of men-like silhouettes with glowing green eyes were perched on top of a nearby ruined building. They held strange muskets in their hands.

"Listen! Reconquista's already got the next street over and they can get behind you!" one of them shouted this time in Tristainian, "We can buy you time but you'll have to retreat a few streets back!"

"Who in the Founder's name are you?!" Marshall Grammont shouted back from his horse.

"Friends!" The figure responded.

"Father, I believe those are our allies' soldiers." His son spoke up. The Marshall looked again. They didn't look like the ones he saw at the Embassies, but the similarities were apparent. The group of strange soldiers watched as the Grammonds and their troops retreated to safer positions.

As they did so, they heard a series of explosions and continuous gunshots behind them followed by cries of agony and terror that finally turned to unnatural silence.

' _Whoever these men are… they're good!'_ the Marshall mused grimly as he made his way to another strong point with his men.

How far into the city the fighting reached varied wildly. On the west side, the fighting was still within 500 yards of the wall. In the east though, the bloodshed had reached nearly a mile into the city, although till a long way from the Palace. Some small bands of Reconquista had gotten even further.

But these small bands were isolated and got lost in the unfamiliar streets. Many of them ended up stumbling upon huddled mobs of civilians fleeing from the fighting. Unfortunately for the Albion troops, the citizens would not be intimidated and fought back with whatever they had. Pitchforks, pans and even bits of masonry were used. The better equipped Albion troops killed several, obviously, but the populace didn't relent, and the bands had no choice but to flee. The captured weapons and armour were sent to the armouries as fast as they could or were hastily given to any passing soldiers.

In the confusion, the Albion troops even attacked each other as they lost themselves inside the city. Unfortunately, the Tristainians too suffered from the same problem as small groups fell back from the streets and alleys they were holding. And darkness and the chaos was hurting both sides.

Guiche and his unit had gotten to a new position in a different street along some men he had picked up and Kirche. Tabitha circled above on Sylphid's back, summoning her ice magic to help. As they barely made it there, someone shouted that the enemy was upon them. Musketeers and pikemen hastily formed ranks as the Albion troops charged haphazardly. Guiche made out a figure that was shouting orders. The figure's head suddenly snapped back as a brick hit it from above before slumping to the ground. A volley of muskets thundered out, thinning the ranks as Valkyries and Golems charged into the disorganized mob.

The battle had resumed for Guiche and his friends.

* * *

Cromwell snarled at the latest reports. His men were being bled dry despite their advantage in numbers. Long columns of wounded could be seen and were being transported back to the overworked field hospitals. 7,000 of his 45,000 soldiers were either dead or wounded. That was the reports. The real number was probably higher with many still agonizing on the battlefield or in dark alleys.

The Navy had stopped giving support just a few hours ago, the darkness having taken its toll on their ships and the windstones needed to replenish. Two ships had actually collided with each other.

It had been a good idea to send Sheffield back to Albion for reinforcements after all. The losses were getting heavier by the hours and Cromwell simply knew he could not afford such casualties. Each soldier or mage he lost was one less that could be used against Germania, Gallia, or even a Romalian-led crusade.

However, Cromwell had a growing sense of dread as every minute passed, seeming more like hours in his sleep deprived mind. Some of his reports were… troubling. Units decimated by invisible forces with rapidly firing muskets or powerful explosions, mages and officers dying at an extremely fast rate, as if they were singled out...this reeked of the heretics' doing. They couldn't already be here? Surely it was impossible?

He was starting to think that he would have to fight the blasphemous powers that had allied with Tristain after all.

Another report came in, and Cromwell held it up in the lantern light. The words were blurred and illegible. He gave himself a fierce shake of the head to temporarily relieve his sleepiness and read the contents: A list of eight Albion high ranking nobles that had been killed in the last hour in the eastern half of the city. The fighting there was the most savage. But that was good. It meant they were wearing down the defenders. If he could force even one side to collapse and fall back to the city center, it would make all the defenders have to retreat. And once he got to the city center, there would be very little stopping the Reconquista forces from storming the castle.

* * *

The battle in the sky having died down, both Duke and Duchess Vallieres had returned to the ground and were now coordinating their forces. The last few hours in the Capital's western quarter had been intense. 2,000 men dead, over a fourth of their army. Many were wounded as well, flooding the emergency field hospitals. Both the Water Mages and the Earth doctors that had arrived after the coronation were hard at work healing them, but the caseload was swamping them. Every mage healing wounded was a mage not on the front line. But it was necessary as they could seldom afford losing a single man.

"I expected a better show from the Albionian troops," the Duke commented as he read the latest dispatches. A flickering set of candles lit up the room they had requisitioned to serve as their command center. A series of head nodded in agreement.

"Indeed but we are talking about misguided heretics," his wife replied, "Brimir knows who are his true believers and protects them."

"Yes," the Duke answered before turning back to a map, "We are faring far better than I expected though. Their troops are having far more difficulties breaking through our defenses."

Reassuring news for now.

"What of our ammunition?" he continued, "How long we will be able to use our firearms and cannons?"

"Milord, we have been using far more powder and shot than we planned," one of his aides reported, "At this rate, we'll be out of ammunition in the early morning."

That was not good news. They had to hold longer than that.

"I see," the duchess said grimly, "Order our men to limit their use of muskets and cannon."

The aides nodded.

"Have you heard any news from our allies?" the duke asked.

"Marshal Grammont had a curious encounter to say the least," one of the aides said, "The Queen and General du Poitier's troops have said they've seen them scurrying along the rooftops and shadows killing Albionian troops in the streets. Marshal Grammont said that a group of them approached him directly and kept him from being ambushed by Albionian forces. As he escaped the ambush with his men, he heard explosions and heavy musket fire."

"There are also some of our officers that claim that these men have been assassinating enemy officers, musicians, and standard bearers. They seem part of the reason for the enemy's disorganised assaults."

"So they are assassins as our daughter's familiar said." The Duke mused. "Dishonorable...but I won't deny their efficiency."

There was a degree of begrudging respect in his comment.

"They've also decimated entire enemy formations with explosive traps. The traps were strong enough to tear asunder entire ranks of men."

"So that familiar was right," the duchess muttered, "Still, we are bearing the brunt of the fighting. I will not be impressed till they arrive to share it with us."

* * *

 **2:27 A.M.**

Tristania was burning with dozens of small fires scattered around the city. 2,300 feet above the city, well above the Tristainian airships near the center of the city and the Albionian ones landed outside the walls, four small objects buzzed above the chaos and fighting.

The RQ-7 Shadow was a reconnaissance drone that had been in use in the United States Armed Forces for nearly two decades, now making its first debut in another world. Miles away, at the Academy, officers were gathered to see the feed for themselves. They saw a lot of bodies moving in a lot of places, and the occasionally blue square that marked where the Special Forces teams were. There was also flashes of light that were clearly magical in nature. The fighting was intense, that much they could see. And it looked like it was getting deeper and deeper into the city.

One broke to fly over the landed Albion fleet outside the city and spotted something major: one very large, ornate ship that stood out from the bulk of the fleet in size. Naturally, such a large ship could only mean one thing: it was a command vessel. The North American commanders bemoaned that they had no air assets available to engage such an important target.

"We need to catch that thing while it's still on the ground." General Carignan stated. "Prioritize getting the American attack helicopters here. Have everyone else clear off the road if they have to."

"Yes Ma'am!" a chorus replied before turning to their radios and coordinating the change in orders.

The Canadian officers couldn't help but envy their American counterparts' much nicer military budgets; the Canadian Armed Forces had no attack helicopters.

"We kill whoever's on that thing and we ruin their chain of command," Carignan continued. She watched as the drones passed over the Embassy compounds. "The landing zones still look secure though."

Getting their heavily mechanized forces onto the inner streets of that city wasn't going to happen. So they'd elected instead to create a noose: surround the city on all sides to cut off any chance of the enemy escaping. Infantry could enter through the gates and breached walls and attack their enemy in the rear. The enemy fleet outside the city was a new development, but the earlier battles that day had proved TOWs were more than a match for ships on the ground. Hellfires would be even deadlier for the enemy's ships.

And they'd planned an air assault at the same time; the 3rd Battalion was already being briefed. The Embassies were only a stone's throw away from the Palace- the enemy's target. But they also had some thing that could be of help… helipads. The drones confirmed that the center of the city was still safe. They could fly in men to the embassies and establish a safety perimeter around the buildings, gradually expanding it as more men arrived. By helicopter, the journey would be less than an hour one way. Right now, there were only six CH-146s at the portal, but more were coming in on top of the American rotary assets.

If they got a perimeter around that area, then any enemy assault that approached the city center would inevitably stumble into their line of fire. Not they just had to make the decision to go through with it or not. They had fire power, but the enemy had numbers, far too many to not be concerned.

The General mulled the matter for a few seconds. If this worked, it'd work spectacularly. If it failed…

"We're going through with the air assault. 3rd Battalion will deploy as soon as they are ready."

"Yes General!"

* * *

A group of 5 men walked up to the top of the Palace battlements. Major Thomas Evans was accompanied by four men of the SAS detachment in Tristain as he carried an important message for the young monarch. They'd been told by the Palace staff the Kingdom's young Queen was up here. As he exited the tower, he saw a group of people.

"Your Majesty! You must rest!" Delage pleaded, "It is of no use for you to waste away right now!"

"I will escort you to your bedchambers," Agnes added, "We cannot risk you collapsing of exhaustion."

"Please listen to me not as a former Queen but as your mother and rest my daughter," Archduchess Marianne insisted desperately, "Staying up like this is of no use right now."

She suddenly wished that the youngest Valliere was here. That girl could get her daughter to listen to reason.

"I can coordinate the battle without your presence," Du Poitier said.

"I will not rest until our fair capital is safe!" Henrietta snapped in an unladylike way, "What example would I set as Brimir's heir if I chose to desert my post now!? General, you have not rested either!"

"Your Majesty, I am a soldier and we are meant to should such burdens." he argued, "This is-"

"And as Queen I must be present when my people and lands are in mortal danger!" Henrietta interrupted.

Evans cleared his throat, causing the whole group to look at him in surprise.

"My apologies but I have a critical message for her Majesty," he reported, bowing to the dignitaries.

"Yes? You are?" Henrietta asked hurriedly.

"Major Thomas Evans, I am the Military Attaché to Lord Richardson and I've been sent here with the task of organizing cooperation between our forces. You'll be happy with the news I bear."

He noticed the dark circles under the Queen's weary eyes.

"Very well, what news do you have?"

"As you have already heard, we've been fighting the Albion armies and have repelled the assault on the Academy and our base."

"Those are good tidings Major," Du Poitier said, "But we know of them already."

Evans smiled.

"General Carignan is already organizing a counterattack to relieve Tristania. The general believes that our main forces will arrive here tomorrow afternoon, but we're sending in light forces by helicopter now. They'll land at the Embassies and take up positions in the surrounding blocks. We'll need you to make sure our aircraft don't scare any of your ships or men."

"Light forces?" Du Poitier asked, "Are you sure that they will be enough to hold back the enemy?"

"I am supremely con-"

"Your Majesty!" A cry interrupted the British officer's words.

Henrietta had collapsed of fatigue, the lack of sleep finally getting to her as her mother and Agnes caught her on the fall. The Tristainians and a few nearby soldiers gathered around her.

"Will she be alright?" The Major asked suddenly. An allied leader collapsing was never a good sign in his mind.

"Yes, yes, she'll be alright." General Du Poitier fretted. "Gentlemen, thank you, I assure you I'll pass on word to our forces. Please, wait in the Palace's war room." It was obvious how embarrassing this was to them.

"Understood." Evans nodded and left them. They hadn't given him directions, but he'd find someone else who could. He'd come away from that meeting with one piece of knowledge gained- their Queen was a real fighter.

* * *

Louise had finally dozed off despite her best efforts to stay awake and cracking the secrets of the Founder's Prayer Book. Saito was staring out the window as he massaged his temples and tried to avoid bashing his head against said window out of a mix of annoyance and boredom. The teenage boy heard a light snore, causing him to turn back. His girlfriend was facefirst in the holy book. Saito made his way over before gently trying to move her head out of the book.

"Wha-DID I FALL ASLEEP?!" Louise screeched, almost deafening Saito as she shot back up.

"L-Louise calm down! You were working really hard trying and you just got tired so calm down a bit."

"I can't just rest right now! Tristain and her Majesty are depending on me!" she shot back, "I have to find out how this book works!"

It was a harsh blow to her pride. Her parents were outside fighting. Her schoolmates as well.

But Louise? She was stuck trying to understand how a holy relic worked.

"I say we get out and fight!" Saito declared, "I don't care if her Majesty ordered us to stay here."

Earlier, the pair had tried to leave but were stopped by the Queen who ordered Louise and Saito to remain her and unlock the power of the Founder's Prayer Book. His girlfriend being who she was, diligently followed orders.

Louise glared at him.

"How dare you think about disobeying her Majesty's orders!"

"Partner's right. We can't stay here and wait for something to happen while the enemy's rampaging through the city." Derf spoke up.

"Thanks Derf," Saito said, emboldened by his sword and friend's word, "Besides, I heard a lot of heroes became heroes because they broke the rules! All you have to do is blow up the bad guys!"

"S-Saito you idiot! That's absolutely reckless!" Louise said back.

"All we have to do is move fast while you cast your magic at the enemy. I can protect you!" her boyfriend insisted, "In any case… I'm not waiting for them to come and get us!"

Saito made his way to the door.

"F-fine! I'm coming with you!" Louise relented as she stood up, grabbing the Founder's Prayer Book.

* * *

How many men had he killed tonight? Guiche wasn't sure as he stopped counting and caring long ago. But thousands had died on both sides, that much he knew. The lines were pushed further and further into the city, past wrecked streets lined with dead soldiers and civilians. Fires consumed many of the nearby buildings as they fell to the ground. The unit of musketeers and pikemen he'd started out with were mostly dead or wounded by this point, and he was now commanding a motley collection of formerly leaderless swordsmen, pikemen, and civilians looking to help in the fight. The musketeers were long gone, many having run out of powder and shot or ordered back to the palace walls. His eyes ached. His limbs felt heavy. The rage that had carried him through the night had started to wane, leaving only fatigue. His clothes and armour were dirty, covered in grime, dust and blood. At this stage, Guiche couldn't remember what they looked like clean. He braced himself on the improvised barricades made from rubble. How many of these had he made tonight? He couldn't remember that either. Tabitha and Kirche had left on a tired Sylphid to get some quick rest. They had asked Guiche if he wanted to join them but he refused.

' _How long has it been though?'_

"My son!" Guiche's father arrived at their part of the line, snapping Guiche back to reality. "My men!" He addressed his weary soldiers. "Stand fast! Day break is approaching. Our allies are approaching! The enemy is tiring! Their dead pile high over ours. We are outlasting them!"

Somehow, Guiche felt some of his strength return to him. Maybe they could win this.

Shouting interrupted his musings.

"Form ranks!" his father ordered yet another time in that long night, "The enemy's attacking again."

It was amazing how the man somehow had the strength to carry on fighting.

Another wave of Albion soldiers appeared at the end of the street while the defenders braced themselves. As they drew nearer, they began to be pelted with bricks, rocks and rubble by some of the citizens. Many fell as they were hit by the projectiles. But they charged on as determined as they'd been at the start of the night. And the Tristainians stood fast like so many times that long night.

* * *

A red sun was peeking at the horizon as Cromwell stood on the deck of the _Lexington_. Somehow, he hadn't collapsed of exhaustion despite the harrowing night. He read some of the latest dispatches. It was worrying. The battle was still continuing and his army was being bled at a much faster rate. 12,000 dead and many more wounded. A voice interrupted him. It was the army's quartermaster.

"L-lord-Protector, I bring ill news."

"What?" Cromwell snapped.

"Much of our powder and shot has been used up. Many cannon crews are out of ammunition as well."

"Have you not salvaged any from the Tristainians?!"

"Y-yes but-."

"No buts!"

"Yes Lord-Protector! Shall we continue our attack?"

Cromwell glanced to another one of his subordinates

"Have we been able to break any of the flanks yet?!"

There was a look of unease on every one of his subordinates.

"This is taking far too long." Cromwell muttered to himself. His conquest shouldn't have taken more than a few hours. "The day is new already. We need to change our strategy."

"What are your orders Lord-Protector?" one of his underlings asked timidly.

"Muster all the crews." He decided. "Once the sun rises, we shall move our entire fleet above their city. Let the non-believers look up and see how irrelevant they really are before the will of Brimir." They'd put the Tristainian Navy out of commission for good and demoralize the troops. After that, his troops would finally sweep in and overrun the cowering Tristainians.

"Lord-Protector," one of his underlings spoke up nervously, "W-we must rest the army first. We have been fighting for the past night. Many are exhausted and will not be able to-"

Cromwell's face hardened.

"NO! NO! NO! HOW DARE YOU SUGGEST SUCH A THING!?" he roared, his face red, "COWARD!"

"B-but Lord-Pro-"

"ARE YOU ALL FAITHLESS!?" Albion's leader ranted on, "DO YOU WISH TO INSULT OUR HOLY FOUNDER WITH YOUR-YOUR COWARDNESS! BRIMIR NEVER ALLOWED HIMSELF TO REST WHEN HE LEAD OUR PEOPLE! WHY SHOULD WE STAIN HIS MEMORY IN SUCH A WAY?!"

"Our forces are exhausted!" another argued, "Many have not rested or eaten in h-"

"DO YOU THINK THAT MATTERS!? WE ARE ON THE CUSP OF OUR NEXT VICTORY AND YOU DARE WANT TO REST!? OUR ENEMIES WILL REST TOO! FOOLS! DID WE REST WHEN WE DEFEATED THE TUDORS?!"

None of Cromwell's men dared look at their leader, too fearful of his wrath.

"It will be done Lord-Protector," one finally answered in a small voice, his eyes looking at the floor.

* * *

"Admiral!" A sailor burst into de Châteauneuf's quarters, tearing the man from his light sleep. "It is first light and the Albionian fleet is raising into the sky!" The man was quick to get out of bed- he hadn't even changed out of his uniform the previous night- and rushed to the command deck. As he arrived, de Châteauneuf could see the ominous silhouettes of the enemy's ships rise into the skies. His fleet had already been bled badly in the earlier night battles; Close to half of his ships were destroyed or crippled. Many of his sailors had been casualties. Those without ships were transferred to a new one or sent to fight on foot in the streets, desperately trying to shore up the defenses. They no longer had the walls to help them, and the only cannons left were on the Palace battlements. And they'd given most of their ammunition to the Navy.

It was not a good situation… but the admiral made do with what he had.

He made his way to a table where a map of the capital was. Various flags represented his forces and the enemy's.

Looking up from his table, de Châteauneuf could see the enemy's fleet forming up. Their positions had not changed from the last night as they moved in. He began issuing orders to his aides for them to send to his remaining ships. His best bet was to use his forces as a mobile reserve, moving to intercept any enemy thrust that went too far.

Very soon, his ships began to rise back into the skies, many still bearing the scars of yesterday's battles. Damage had been hastily repaired by the crews, many of the city's carpenters and volunteers who had worked during the lull in the naval battles. Wooden planks, struts and supports had been quickly nailed to get those ships back into action. Some had even insisted to remain on the ships even they headed back into battle. Cannons that used the same ammunition were taken from the army who was running empty. Luckily, many vessels still had powder and shot left for the borrowed cannons.

As they formed up in the skies above Tristainia for one more battle, the Tristainian sailors silently prayed to Brimir for victory as their ships headed towards the enemy.

A silhouette appeared in the distance that dwarfed the Reconquista ships.

"By the Founder," de Châteauneuf whispered to himself as he saw the massive Albionian flagship moving towards him, surrounded by a squadron of frigates. Albion wasn't holding back this time…

"Men!" He used a spell to amplify his voice. He wasn't going to get discouraged and he wasn't going to let his sailors get discouraged either. "These skies belong to us! They have always belonged to us. And they will always belong to us! To battle!"

* * *

Even if they didn't have as much experience in it as the Americans, Canada had a well developed air assault doctrine. After all, the vast, sparsely populated Canadian territory meant that the Army needed to move quickly across barren territory if something happened such as a Soviet/Russian invasion across the North Pole. It also helped whenever natural disasters struck to have well trained professionals move quickly to intervene.

Practice with the Americans helped them perfect it and made joint operations very easy for both nations.

Nine Griffons carried men from the 3rd Battalion into the skies above Tristain. A little to their south were two AH-64 Apaches from the 10th Mountain Division Combat Aviation Brigade. All had launched an hour ago. The Griffons to carry infantry into the fray and the Apaches to destroy the Albionian fleet on the ground. As they entered the air space though, they discovered they were too late. Ships were already trading blows in the skies. Some were even entangled as their crews fought boarding parties. The flagship they'd been told specifically to target was unleashing a volley that shattered a smaller frigate, raining flaming debris on the city below. Whoever was leading the Albion fleet was throwing everything in.

"You boys might want to hold on back there." A co-pilot in one of the Griffons warned the infantry complement. "We're flying into some shit."

One of the Van Doos raised his thumb and grinned in excitement.

"Damn," muttered one of the Apache pilots in annoyance, "They got into the air before we got here." He reported back to command. They had instructions not to down any ships above the city at the risk of causing casualties to friendly forces or non combatants. "We're switching to secondary task." Their instructions had been to down the shits, extend whatever aid they could to the forces fighting in the street, and RTB.

His gunner armed the 30mm cannon before signalling that he was ready to go.

"Showtime bro."

The pair of attack helicopters moved into attack position, behind the line. Anyone trying to push towards the center of the city was the enemy.

* * *

Pikes were thrusted and swords swung over the barricades as the Albionian troops tried to force their way over the barrier and the Tristainians tried to hold them back. It was hard to miss how sluggish every action seemed for both sides.

Guiche himself was surprised that he was standing despite how tired he was. He parried another clumsy pike thrust towards before trying to catch his breath. A fireball crashed into the Albion ranks, courtesy of a Germanian mage who returned in the fray.

Then a strange chopping sound filled his ears. It came from above.

"Look it's the Americans and Canadians!" Kirche shouted as she saw the strange warmachines flying through the air. They'd seen many flying in the skies near the Academy, but these ones looked a little different. They were slimmer and looked more aggressive. Those airships began to fire their weapons. It sounded like musket fire but far more powerful.

Explosions and cries of horror or pain resonated from nearby.

* * *

For the Apache pilots, it was little more than target practice. The enemy was lined up in ranks as they moved through narrow streets. Entire formations disintegrated between 30 mike fire. As accurate as it was, it was still doing a hell of a number of the streets and the buildings around them. But the results couldn't be argued with.

They moved from side to side, targeting a new street every other minute. Dozens and soon hundreds of tightly packed invaders died. Many of the enemies broke, and the defenders chased after them. Suddenly there were thousands of bodies surging the other way.

"I think we got this side 1-4." One of the Apaches radioed the other. "Change focus to the west. 3-1, what's the status of those chalks?" It radioed the Griffons next.

"Chalks have been unloaded. We are RTB!"

"Copy that. We'll clean up here and we'll be right behind you."

* * *

"Forwards men!" Guiche urged as he stood on the barricade and saw the Albion troops flee. He was met by a chorus of cries and cheers. The airships had left for another part of the battle.

"For Tristain! For the Queen! Forwards!" his men shouted as they charged after the retreating enemy. A motley collection of soldiers and armed civilians led by a mage dashed forwards, their exhaustion forgotten. As they ran, they passed over the bodies of those who had fallen earlier in the battles, enraging them. As they kept moving, they could hear cries of horror, driving them harder.

"They fear us!"

As they turned a nook in the street, they were confronted by a group of Albion soldiers with their hands raised.

"We-we s-surrender," one of them begged as he dropped to his knees, terror written all over his face. His pants looked clearly soiled.

"Have mercy please! Brimir has forsaken us!"

"Gladly," Guiche replied coldly as he continued advancing, "Take these men away!"

He heard a few punches landing, cries of pain as well as weapons being swung and hitting flesh as he kept moving with the rest of his men. The young man honestly didn't care about them. Not after what they did.

A few more steps, he could understand why. The outworlders' airships had unleashed their power. Brutally. Mangled bodies littered the street along shattered weapons with some writhing in agony. Some had somehow survived the onslaught but were little more than weeping, terrified heaps rocking back and forth on the ground. Their eyes were empty as they looked around them. Others were shakily trying to help their wounded comrades.

"By the Founder, what weapons do our allies have?!" one of the Tristainians exclaimed while another vomited in shock. Even Guiche was stunned silent for a time.

For all the Tristainians' valor and drive, they realized they were but only the 2nd most powerful force in this battle now.

* * *

The outworlders were here. From the _Lexington_ , Cromwell saw their strange airships for the first time. He watched as they rained some type of fire down into the streets, no doubt onto his Blessed Army.

"Why are they here?!" he angrily muttered to no one, "They weren't supposed to be here! The Founder should never have allowed them to be here! Where are Sheffield and my reinforcements?!"

His forces were getting close and closer to the city center. But if the outworlders were already here, it would get much more difficult. Even he couldn't deny the terrifying power they wielded.

His nostrils flared and he gripped the wooden rail in front of him hard enough that his hands changed color. One of his subordinates witnessed the whole scene but chose to give his Lord-Protector a wide berth.

* * *

"Brimir guides us." Du Pointer murmured to himself as he looked over the map . The entire night had been message after message about retreats and losses. Now the Palace war room was flooding with reports of the enemy retreating and losing men.

"The Americans were always good at providing air support" Major Evans told the Tristainians, "And making a grand entrance."

"There is no doubt." Du Pointer agreed. "But are you absolutely sure there's no way they can help us against the Albionian Navy?" The reports on the ground may have been good, but the ones coming in from the air were not. A full ship of the line was not something they could compete with. If that behemoth approached the castle walls now…

"I'm sorry, gentlemen, but our leaders still think that is a very bad idea." There were already enough fires in the city as was and the Earth command didn't feel like starting another two dozen in five minutes. "Are you certain there's no way to lure their fleet away?"

"Nothing we have could possibly tempt them away from our city."

"Pity." The major shook his head. This wasn't an easy battle. "But if we win the battle on the ground, they'll have no choice but to retreat."

* * *

She could smell the burning wood that was the capital's buildings. Henrietta looked around as she saw her capital cover in an orange glow. The screams of terrified people resonated in her ears, mixed with savage, guttural growls. Everywhere she looked, she could see death and destruction as her people were cut down.

"You've failed us!" a voice accused her, "We followed you faithfully! We obeyed each one of your orders! We died for you!"

She turned over and saw Agnes, her armour bloodied and scarred by battle. The knight looked at her in disgust.

"You've failed us Henrietta!" she repeated with venom in each words, "You should never have been queen!"

Henrietta tried to beg for forgiveness but not a word came out from her mouth.

"Some friend you are!" a male voice accused harshly. It was Saito. The boy was lying on the ground, grievously injured. His sword was gone.

"I should have never helped you meet my world's leaders! They gave you everything they could and you still couldn't save us or your lousy kingdom!"

Again, not a single word came from the queen's mouth no matter how much she wanted to talk. She heard angry sobbing.

"Where were you when I needed you?" a voice said accusingly, "I was always there when you needed me."

It was Louise. The young mage was in a tattered, bloody wedding dress, her haunted, wide eyes devoid of their usual shine. Blood seeped from her many wounds.

"My family gave everything they had to serve you. You were my friend but you couldn't save me from Wardes. You gave me to him… Just like Prince Wales!"

The pink haired mage then collapsed on the ground. Henrietta ran over to her friend.

"Let go of me you cow!" Louise hissed in disgust one last time before her pink eyes shut. The queen tried to reach for her staff but it wasn't there.

"Pathetic," another voice cut in. She saw Hayate, dressed in the white clothes of a doctor. His clothing was covered in blood while his usually cheerful expression was gone. There was contempt in his face.

"Healing magic… what a joke! Couldn't help my brother or his girlfriend."

Before she could say anything, Henrietta heard another voice. One she had not heard in a long time.

"It is as I feared. The crown was too great a burden for you," her father, King Henry said passively as her mother stood by him, a look of disappointment and sadness.

"My poor little daughter..." her mother sighed, "I never should have pressed for you to be Queen."

The rest of her old regency council appeared, disgust apparent on their faces.

"You have failed Brimir," Mazarin accused, "You have forever doomed your bloodline with your failure."

"You were truly a foolish little girl that trusted every nice word", Richemont mocked as he laughed cruelly, "Where are our so-called allies?"

"Your recklessness doomed us!" Delage cursed her, "First Wales... now this!"

All the voices suddenly began to chant in chorus the same sentence.

"You never should have been queen."

"NO! I AM SORRY! PLEASE-!"

And with that, the Queen left her nightmare back for reality, jerking awake in her bedchambers. Sunlight filtered in through the windows though Henrietta could hear the sounds of battle. She was in night clothes even though she didn't recall changing or even going to sleep. Her armour and battle dress were nowhere to be seen.

"Henrietta!"

Her mother almost leapt from her chair to hold her daughter.

"Mother," Henrietta sniffed as the two women held each other, "It was horrible!"

"It'll be fine. It was just a nightmare dear." Her mother comforted her like so many times when she was but a small child, frightened of the night's imaginary monsters.

"Thank you Mother." Henrietta sighed, "How long was I asleep?"

"A few hours." her mother answered as she kissed the top of her daughter's head, "Do not fret for the battle. Our allies have arrived in a rather… grandiose fashion."

"Take me to them!" Henrietta ordered as she stood out of bed.

"You are to rest my daughter!" her mother snapped back, "You've done more than is needed right now!"

"But it is my task to lead our people in their darkest hour!" Henrietta insisted.

"Our people would not want their queen to wear herself out needlessly," her mother replied. A knock sounded on the door.

"Enter!" Both royals ordered and the door swung open. Agnes entered the room, looking tired but unflinching. The Musketeer Captain immediately noticed the Queen was awake.

"Your Majesty, I am quite happy to see you are awake. Have you slept well?"

"Yes," Henrietta lied, "How have the past hours been?"

"Very well, your Majesty." There was a genuine smile on Agnes' face. "Some hours ago, our allies arrived and decimated hundreds of Albion soldiers. Our own forces have pushed them back considerably since."

"It is true? How did they do so?" Henrietta asked.

"A dozen of their airships arrived, bearing many soldiers and powerful weapons. The enemy fled from their might, and dozens more soldiers have arrived since then." Henrietta looked relieved.

"What of Admiral de Châteauneuf?"

"He and the Navy are still fighting as best as they can but we believe that he will soon be forced to retreat." Agnes reported, "The enemy greatly out numbers them and our allies can not help us."

"B-but why?"

"Their generals consider that destroying the Albion Navy above the capital will bring needless destruction to our people and our city. They do not wish to needlessly harm innocents or cause more suffering simply to stop Albion. In their words, there's no point in destroying Albion's ships if there's no one left in Tristainia to save."

"I see…" Henrietta said gravely. As much she hated hearing that, her allies were right.

"How badly damaged has the city become?" It was a question neither woman obviously wanted to answer. Both Agnes and Archduchess Marianne looked at each with uncertainty.

"There's going to be a lot of work for the masons and carpenters when this battle will be over." Agnes finally answered. She left it at that. Henrietta didn't need to guess that the city was badly damaged.

"At least the battle is beginning to turn in our favor."

Their prayers had not been on deaf ears. Just then, the sound of running could be heard.

"Your Majesty!" Du Poitier said, out of breath as he entered the room, "I am very happy to see you are amongst us once more. I bring good tidings."

"What news do you bring us general?" Henrietta asked, urging the man for a fast answer.

"The Grand Duke of Guldenhorf and other nobles are arriving with their armies! 9000 men in all. They'll reach the city later today."

"But how do you know of this?"

Du Poitier caught breath before answering.

"A messenger arrived on his familiar bearing the news of the Grand Duke's arrival your Majesty."

There was some measured relief in the man's voice.

"Let us hope that they can make it into the city to aid us. The enemy army is still plenty and I fear they are reforming as we speak."

"I understand," Henrietta answered before turning to Agnes, "Would you kindly send for Lady Vallière and M. Hiraga? I wish to enjoy their company."

Agnes' eyes widened slightly.

"I believe they have left the Palace to help in the fighting."

" _What_?!"

* * *

The noble messenger's entrance had been noticed by the Albionians too; a flying beast was hardly discrete. And Cromwell could still deduce what it likely meant. He'd been so worried about the heretics showing up, he'd forgotten to consider that the Tristainians themselves might have reinforcements coming. The outworlder airships had left and his forces were starting to reorganize. He couldn't let anything else stop them. Looking over to his naval commander with a severe look, Cromwell issued his new orders.

"Detach all of our frigates!" he barked, "I want the Navy to stop the Tristainian reinforcements."

"But Lord-Protector, this will leave the _Lexington_ unprotected. I beg of you not to demand such an order." the admiral pleaded nervously. He had witnessed the last temper tantrum that his liege had and was quite fearful for his life.

"Do you see where the Tristainian Navy is?!" Cromwell snapped back. The admiral tried to answer but was cut off. "Running away from the might of this ship! In flaming ruins on the streets of Tristainia! Crush those so-called reinforcements and we break that silly girl's resolve! After that… victory! Am I understood?!"

"Y-yes Lord-Protector! It will be done!" The man hurried off. Cromwell stumbled to the side railing. He had no idea how insane he really looked at that moment- like a man possessed. Soon he could afford the luxury of good rest. It was as good as over. The Tristainian Navy was down to its last few ships. He still outnumbered the enemy in the streets below. And no reinforcements would be coming for Tristain while Sheffield would be bringing reinforcements for him soon.

Yes, he'd won! Him! Brimir's chosen prophet!

* * *

"General!" A messenger came into the Palace war room and bowed before his commander. "The Albion fleet is leaving the city! They are heading southeast." Du Poitier looked pale.

"Our reinforcements…" He realized.

"They're out of the air space?" Major Evans interjected.

"Yes." The messenger confirmed. The major grinned a wide grin.

"Bloody hell! We got them now." He got on his radio. Five minutes later, word was back at the Academy and the Apaches were being launched again for another anti-air mission. More had arrived from Earth as well, General Carignan having insisted on getting them in as fast as they could.

Du Poitier's face lit up as well as he digested the information.

It was time to wipe out the Albion fleet and turn the tide of this battle once and for all.

 **Hope you enjoyed it!**

 **See you next chapter… and Merry Christmas if we don't update before then.**


	15. Chapter 13: Northern Resolve

**Disclaimer: FoZ/ZnT belong to the departed Noboru Yamaguchi and whoever inherited the I.P.. Any real life organisation/person is merely being used in a fictional non-profit way.**

 **Authors' notes: So North America counterattacks… Happy New Year's everyone!**

 **For those who want to see other Earth nations in this conflict, do remember that the Commonwealth forces have to travel much greater distances to get to Canada in the first place. Australia/New-Zealand has the Pacific to cross as well as the west coast of North America while Britain has the Atlantic Ocean to deal with. The flight from Australia to Montreal alone takes** _ **24 hours**_ **. That excludes mobilisation in Australia and reorganisation once they arrive in Canada. The 1st Cavalry Division, which is based in Texas, takes 3 days to travel to Montreal because they have to cross the whole US. Those 3 days is the time it takes for the** _ **quick response brigades**_ **. The flight between Houston and Montreal is 6h with one stop.**

 **Given that kind of delay, there's a reason why any sizable non-Canadian Commonwealth force would not make into Halkeginia in time to help save the Tristainians. Waiting for them would have doomed Tristain and Henrietta. However reconstruction is another thing…**

 **As for NATO, maybe small detachments but a large scale deployment is unlikely since the US/Commonwealth forces are more than enough.**

 **Japan's unlikely as hell even if Saito and his brother were present in Halkeginia. In Saito's case… he's still missing as far the average Japanese know while his brother is only one citizen. The Zero fighter wouldn't be enough either. At best… scientific parties.**

 **No Wagner's is because of two things. No one plays 'Ride of the Valkyries' for psyops according to what I learnt from veterans . The other reason is that RCAF helicopters don't actually have speakers mounted to them for psyops. It's not part of Canadian military doctrine. Sad but true.**

 **Northern Resolve**

They had brought tents and other supplies, but unfortunately it had never made it off the ships before the outworlders destroyed them. So now the Albionian troops around Clément-sur-Mer were improvising shelter from the local trees… that is if the damned outworlders hadn't removed most of them. Foraging gave some food despite the scarce land… but it was better than nothing.

The sun was soon to rise, and the troops couldn't be happier; the night had been very cold for many of them, camped out on the plains. Some kept themselves warm with rage as they stared at the brightly lit up base in the distance. It was almost a mockery for them at how their enemy seemed to be comfortable despite being at war. Others could muster no such animosity, their will to fight already sapped by the horrors they had seen on that first day. So many had died without being able to do anything.

The men had even been too scared to retrieve their wounded that fell close to the base. Their cries had fallen silent, no doubt having been taken prisoner by their enemies or killed.

To add insult to injury, the enemy had chosen to attack them with words. Their strange airships flew above, bombarding them with messages that the other assaults had failed catastrophically and that it was better to surrender than die uselessly for a leader that did not care about them.

Many had laughed at such blasphemy. How could faithless heathens break the will of Brimir's chosen themselves? It was only a matter of time before Lord-Protector Cromwell sent reinforcements from Albion.

But it didn't make the cold night any more bearable.

It was the early morning, still before sunrise. Many men were still sleeping, or trying to. Others were huddled around small fires to keep themselves warm. What few officers were left were conversing in the scant amount of shelter that they still had.

"We should be able to keep the enemy behind his battlements," Ravenshill said to his aides in the southern camp as he looked over a map, "He does not look like he wishes to sally forth."

"Milord, what if they are telling the truth?" one of his aides asked worriedly, "If they have already stopped our Lord-Protector's attacks elsewhere, we could be the only force left in Tristain."

"I refuse to believe their lies," Ravenshill replied simply, "If they were truly winning than they would have sallied forth by now. Not constantly telling us about our imminent defeat."

"Perhaps they know that help is on the way so they chose to wait and rest comfortably as to better fight us at first light?"

"It is of no matter. They are lying." Ravenshill insisted, "There is no way that their armies would be able to break the siege at the Tristain Academy and relieve Tristania in such a short period of time."

Meanwhile... light rose from the east. A sentry in the camp east of the base noticed it first. The lights grew brighter followed by a droning sound that grew ever louder. The sentry quickly had a messenger sent word to Lord Ravenshill. The rest of the eastern camp rose at the disturbance.

* * *

The light and rumbling was in fact two companies worth of Canadian mechanized infantry that had come from the portal. LAV-IIIs' and other support vehicles had dashed from the Academy portal as soon as the assault had been broken, bearing 300 Canadian soldiers and their weapons. Dust swirled around the armoured vehicles as they crested a small hill, their formation loosening up. The backs opened up and infantry sections disembarked.

* * *

"Lord Ravenshill! The enemy is upon us!" an Albion soldier shouted as he entered the General's tent.

"What do you mean?!" the general exclaimed.

"They have arrived upon strange magical wagons near the eastern camp!" the soldier reported as he caught his breath, "We count 30 of those wagons milord!"

"Have they begun attacking us?" Ravenshill asked urgently. He needed to form up his remaining men and the last thing he needed was the enemy attacking him before he was ready.

"No milord, they have stopped for the moment," the soldier reported, "But we have seen men disembarking from these wagons."

That reassured Ravenshill as he let out a sigh of relief.

"Send for the captains," he ordered, "We must ready ourselves for battle against the enemy."

"Yes milord."

As he made his way to his planning table and unrolled the map, another panicked man burst into his tent. He bowed hastily before talking.

"Milord, the enemy's airships have taken off again!"

"What?! Are they heading towards us?!"

"Yes Milord!"

"Have the captains form up for battle against the enemy's reinforcements immediately!"

Ravenshill remembered what had happened to his cannons. What had happened to the airships that robbed him of half his army the Lord-Protector had trusted to his leadership. Those strange streaks of magic fire that hit with precision that could make even a square mage envious. What would they target this time?

* * *

The attack began. Repetitive thumping sounds resonated as the Canadian's LAV-III's began pouring fire onto their enemy.

The Albion troops were still in the process of forming up. It was a difficult task as many officers, banners and musicians had been lost in yesterday's hectic battles. It had become downright impossible when the first 25mm shells began raining down on them. First to fall were the musketeer units as they were torn to shreds by the enemy's heavy muskets.

The Canadian officers had chosen to remove the enemy' only source of firepower. Muskets were much inferior compared to modern assault rifles like the Canadian infantry's C7A2's but removing the enemy's ability to throw lead around was always welcome.

It helped greatly that the Albion troops were using tactics from the early 1600's where each unit was clearly identified by their weapons.

The flashes and sounds reached as far as the southern camp. Ravenshill could only watch in horror as he saw his men getting cut down in the distance. His aides were horrified as well.

"M-milord, are we going to reinforce the eastern camp?" An aide asked.

"Of course! Order our men to advance!" Ravenshill ordered desperately, "We have the weight of numbers!"

* * *

"Move up!" was the order for many of the Canadian infantry sections after they had dismounted from their transports. They dashed through the open fields while their transports provided covering fire. Very soon, the clicking sound of bipods and tripods being deployed could be heard as Canadian machine gunners got into position. Machine guns roared to life as bullets streaked across the battlefield.

Occasionally, a wall of dirt or a shimmering blast of wind would appear, buying a split second of relief for the Reconquista troops before the magic wore out. The Reconquista saw their enemy charging them and counter attacked, only to witness the heretics stop and drop to the ground once they were close enough. More fire rang out from the enemy's repeating muskets, cutting down even more men. Officers fell at alarming rates, picked off one by one and slowly beheading the army as well as removing any magic that could help them.

The countercharge stopped in its tracks as many fell to the ground, injured, terrified or dead. Others tried to run away… but there was no escape. They were caught between the enemy bastion and the enemy's reinforcements. The eastern camp collapsed in order entirely. Some men fled towards the woods in the distance. Others tried to run north or south.

In the southern camp, the CH-146s began to rain fire down on the gathered Reconquista forces before they could even move out. The soldiers and Lord Ravenhill could only watch helplessly as their ranks were torn asunder by the loud and fearsome weapons of the heretics.

In the northern camp, pinpoint precise explosions suddenly decimated the gathered men as the Blackhawks fired from a distance. They couldn't even see the attacking airship. Hellfire after Hellfire detonated among their ranks, killing scores of men each time.

* * *

"M-milord, what should we do?!" one of Ravenshill's aides panicked. The sound of the battle rained around them: the wet sound of bodies being struck, of dirt and ground being thrown up, of men wailing in pain and in fear. Listening to all of that, the Reconquista general realized: he had no idea that could bring victory. Suddenly everything else seemed so far away from him: the cause, the Lord-Protector's vision for the Blessed Realms, visions of wealth and fame. Any chance of victory was gone.

With no hesitation, Ravenshill drew his sword and made his way to one of the walls of the tent. He swung a few times, cutting off a large piece of cloth before tying it to his sword.

"Milord?!"

The Albion general ignored him and strode outside, the carnage not letting up in those few moments. Pointing his wand at his neck as he waved his sword.

"The battle is yours! We surrender! Men of Albion… lay down your weapons! They have defeated us on this day! We cannot win! The Founder has forsaken us on this field of battle!" His amplified voice drifted over the plains. The airships suddenly ceased their devastating fire. After several moments, the sound of battle in the north and east ceased too. His voice hadn't actually reached those camps, but the Earth forces had ceased firing and the Reconquista there were either too shaken or too banged up to even attempt to attack.

Ravenshill just stood there in a daze for several minutes while the airships returned to their base. And suddenly the enemy was sallying forth, heading directly for his camp. He could only assume they were going to his other camps as well. Coming to gather their prisoners.

As the Canadian and American soldiers advanced and entered the camps, their adversaries were begging for mercy. Despite being outnumbered, there was no opposition. A single soldier could guard a dozen prisoners and none would disobey their captors' orders. Reconquista was wholly and truly beaten here.

In spite of his horrific losses, in spite of his surrender, and in spite of his failure to complete his mission, Ravenshill was determined to at least maintain some semblance of dignity and station. "What man here led the defense of this bastion?" he asked to a group of American soldiers that attempted to take his sword and wand at gunpoint. He could finally see his opponent up close.

"I cannot give you the name of my commanding officer!" the man said, "Drop the weapons or we're going to have a real problem here!"

"I have already surrendered my army! I will only surrender my sword and my wand to one of equal status to me!" he argued, "I will only hand them to one of your leaders!"

"Captain!" The soldiers called someone else over. A mere captain? Surely a man of higher rank had to have been responsible and present on this field. The man made his way over, accompanied by what Ravenshill presumed to his guards. The soldiers explained Ravenshill's demands to their leader.

"You are in charge of the defense?" He asked.

"Right now, I'm in charge of you. You can either put those weapons on the ground or I can force you to drop them."

"Preposterous! How dare you? I will only surrender to the leader of this army!" To the Earth soldiers, he was playing hardball, demanding the same type of respect and courtesy he'd normally get here. Problem for him was the Earth forces had and still preferred expediency and efficiency over that nonsense. But in the interest of de-escalating things (the other troops could see their General resisting, and the Americans were aware something might happen if they attacked their leader here in front of all of them), the Captain decided to humor the man.

"Tell you what- surrender it to me, and I'll see to it my commander gets it. He is currently busy elsewhere and cannot be present. What is your name milord?"

"I am Lord Cornelius Richards of Ravenshill. And yours captain?"

"Captain Andrew Hills of the United States Army."

"Then Captain Hills," He stepped forward, immediately getting a host of guns pointed at him. He ignored them and pulled up his sword sheath from his belt. "I surrender this army to your kingdom and my sword and wand to the commander who has bested me." The Captain took the sword and his wand, taking a moment to feel the weight of the bladed weapon.

"Your surrender is accepted." The Captain recognized. The tension from the other Albion prisoners eased off. It was completely over now. "You're our prisoner now, so I suggest you cooperate."

"Of course." The noble knew his place. He allowed the same group that'd confronted him at first to raise his arms over his head and lead him away, like so many other men, to the outworlders bastion.

* * *

Inside the base, the reports started coming in. An exact headcount could wait, but at the moment they had somewhere between 1,000 and 2,000 prisoners. That included a few surviving nobles and a senior enemy general.

Despite this victory, it was not time to rest. Radar crews still monitored their screens while ground crews were keeping the helicopters on standby. They were all very tired, having only indulged in brief power naps, but there was still work to be done. Troops were leading the enemy prisoners to temporary holding areas while medics were carrying the wounded away for healing. They already knew they didn't have enough cells at the secret prison for all of them. Hell, not even for a fifth of them. But they'd figure something out.

Word of the battle's conclusion was sent back to Earth. Siege broken, enemy army decimated, 0 casualties. It was a scale of victory unheard back on Earth. In all the hustle and bustle after such a battle, a young officer was making his way to an office in the base, carrying a package with him. He knocked on the door before a voice told him to enter.

"Colonel Hamilton." The Captain saluted after he entered the room.

"At ease." The colonel returned it. "What do you have there, Captain Hills?" The younger officer presented the sword and wand.

"The enemy commander surrendered these to me sir." he said, "He wished to surrender them to you but I told him you were indisposed so he surrendered his army and weapons to me."

"I see. Good job there captain and thank you. You can put them on my desk."

"Yes sir."

"Dismissed."

Hills exited the office and returned to his task. Meanwhile, Hamilton had drawn the sword from its scabbard and was inspecting its craftsmanship. It was a magnificent sword that shone proudly in the office's light.

"Guess this is how General Washington must have felt after Yorktown," the colonel said in satisfaction as he sheathed the sword. He wasn't going to keep it- rules and regulation. But someone up the chain might want it around. Who knows? Maybe it'd be in a museum one day above a plaque detailing Albion's surrender to a base under his command. He chuckled briefly as he realized that he had one-upped the Canadians in being the one that got the first army in Halkegenia to surrender to an Earth army.

One point for America!

* * *

Back in Tristainia, the early morning sun had brought a temporary spell of peace. To each sides commanders, the troops were simply reforming after the chaos that was resulted from the outworlder's airship attack. In reality, both sides were using it to catch a few moments of rest. Most could do so on the Albionian side because their commanders were dead. On both sides what commanders still stood even went so far to encourage it.

But while the Albion troops collapsed in whatever buildings or alcoves they could find, the Tristainian troops were treating themselves to the untouched center of the city, past manors and shops most of them could only dream of being rich enough to live in or shop at. Many passed checkpoints set up by Canadian air assault troops, and there was a true sense of security as they realized the bulky warriors were now between them and the enemy. Some of the warriors had even given words of reassurance and praise for the Tristainian troops' heroics during the night as they passed by.

Coming back with them were also Reconquista prisoners that had been picked up during the surge, although it would be very inaccurate to say they were coming back willing. A few had been bound and were being dragged along the street, a few behind horses. Others were being forced to walk. And if they faltered, they were struck.

This nearly caused an exchange of blows when one such instance happened right in front of Canadian infantry section. They watched as a Reconquista soldier stumbled, and how he was immediately smacked upside his head to the ground.

"There will none of that around us!" a sergeant barked at a group of Tristainian soldiers, "Cut it out!"

"They must pay for what they did to our lands and our people!" one shot back, "They deserve no pity!"

"They are already beaten! If you want to hit one… get your fucking asses back on the line!" the sergeant argued.

"He is right!" another voice cut in. Looking over, the two groups saw a man dressed in fine clothes and decked in expensive armour. It was definitely a nobleman.

"Men of Tristain, cease wasting your strength and return to the battlefield if you wish to quarrel with Albion's men."

The commoner troops grumbled with one daring to talk back. He looked weary and was covered in blood.

"Pff, you can talk of honor and chivalry you fool!" he snapped, "You're not the ones fighting and dying against the damned enemy!"

A scandalized look appeared on the noble

"How dare you speak to me in such a brazen manner?! I am Captain d'Auvergne, leader of the Iron Wall regulars, the finest pikemen in the service of Lord de Grandpré!" the noble retorted, all veneer gone from his voice, "You'll do well remembering your place… you filthy commoner!"

The Canadian troops watched this tense exchange between noble and commoner.

"Gentlemen we have a war to fight!" the Canadian sergeant finally shouted, fed up with such an exchange. Both parties grumbled the man for getting involved.

"You are quite right," the noble finally sneered, "But I will tell my lord about the indiscipline of the Grammond's troops!"

Somehow, the Canadians felt uncomfortable witnessing this exchange. They knew this place was backwards but it was still unpleasant this was what they were partially fighting for.

But if it protected Canada herself, then so be it.

* * *

Also in the center of the city were Louise and Saito. Getting out of the Palace had taken longer than expected, them having to force themselves through throngs of sheltering citizens that had flooded into the first floor. The crowds were still bad after they got out into the open areas directly around the Palace.

Even after they escaped the grounds and gotten into the city, they hadn't got anywhere. Saito had wanted to rush right out to join the fighting. Louise, still holding the Founder's Prayer Book to her chest, had reigned him in. If they were fighting, she insisted they join up with her family's army. But they had no idea where it was after all the movement throughout the night, and none of the people they questioned knew either.

The rising sun, the Albion fleet moving over the city, and the helicopters arriving had kept them rooted to the ground to watch. And now that the forces were reforming, any hope of getting into the city was shot. But it was finally their chance to join up with someone. They even found a few familiar faces.

"Kirche!" Saito spotted the red head first.

"Saito, Louise?! What are you two doing here?!" the Germanian mage exclaimed as she whipped her head around.

"We're looking for my parents' men." Louise stated seriously, "Have you seen them?!"

Kirche shook her head sadly.

"The battle has been so chaotic that men have simply fought with whoever they could," she explained, "So I do not know."

Louise was about to cry in anger.

"So if you're here Kirche… is anyone else like Guiche, Malicorne or Tabitha here?" Saito asked, worried about his friends.

"Of course, Tabitha's flying above and Guiche and Malicorne were fighting in the streets." the Germanian explained soberly, "We-we got separated in the fighting."

"Dammit! Come on Louise! We'll keep looking for your parents," Saito said as they kept moving through the crowded streets. They could still get involved even without the Vallières Army.

* * *

They'd marched through the entire day and night. Their men were tired and weary. Horses, donkeys, and mules had collapsed from exhaustion. These lords and their armies represented Tristain's southern holdings, and they were only a few leagues from arriving to their destination.

But it was better than arriving too late to save their capital and queen.

"Grand Duke Guldenhof, we have returned from scouting the capital," a scout reported as he arrived on his horse.

"How is the city faring?" the burly man asked, "Where are Albion's armies and ships?"

They were standing on a small hill as their army marched in front of them. Tristania was but a very small spec in the distance still.

"Tristania's walls have fallen. The banners of Reconquista fly from the outer battlements but we hear fighting from inside and her Majesty's banner still flies from atop the Royal Palace."

"So the battle is not yet lost," the Grand Duke said as he looked again at his army.

"Many of the enemy's fleet is still around the capital and they are still fighting the remains of the Tristainian navy," the scout continued grimly, "Our ships are badly outnumbered and many were retreating when we last saw them."

"Do we have any signs of our allies' armies?" the Grand duke asked, trying to hide his mistrust. He had heard many fantastical things about the Americans and Canadians at court and had trouble believing their promises.

"We have seen many strange airships fly in and out of the capital," the scout explained.

"So reinforcements then… Have they destroyed any of the enemy's airships?"

"No milord, they are merely flying in and out though we have seen them use strange weapons and magic against the enemy."

A nearby shout suddenly interrupted the report.

"Milord! Albion's ships are headed towards us!" Another one of his soldiers shouted as he rode up to the Grand Duke.

"How many?!" the noble growled as he looked over the horizon, pulling out a spyglass. He could see the silhouettes of the Albion ships come into view. Many were damaged but it was moot. Any army without naval support would be at the mercy of such a force. His question died in his throat as what looked like a literal cloud gathered on the horizon. At least two dozen ships, all bearing towards them.

"Founder help us," he muttered under his breath. "We must space out our forces!" He spurred his horse into a gallup, quickly looking to find the other lords. Thousands of men weary and tired suddenly jerked to alertness as word spread through the ranks.

Mages readied themselves, knowing that their powers had the most chance of damaging these ships. Others scattered, trying to limit the damage that the ships would inflict with their cannons. The enemy continued to speed towards them, each minute a prolonged nightmare of anxiety.

Then distant explosions echoed. The gathered armies first thought it was enemy cannon. The sound was coming from the Albion ships, but it wasn't cannons. Massive explosions began tearing apart the Albion ships as their burning hulks broke apart in the skies. Debris and men rained down on the field beneath, many never realizing what had befallen them. But the men on the ground had- they caught brief glimpses of strange light approaching the ships at unimaginable speed.

"By Brimir," the Grand Duke heard one of his men whisper, "What is this magic?!"

"Grand Duke, it must be our allies! I have heard tales of their power!" another noble exclaimed. Their allies had come to save them from Albion's navy.

Recomposing himself, the Grand Duke casted a spell on his voice.

"Men! Forwards! Let us save the city from the heretics!" he commanded as he urged his horse forward. He would have, Founder willing, the glory of saving the capital from Reconquista.

The army began to move, emboldened by what they had witnessed. The other Lords' armies were not far behind them.

As they advanced, they passed by the grim remains of the Albion fleet. The stench of burning smoke and bodies hung in the air mixed with the noise of breaking wood and agony of injured men.

It was a grim sight but one that many would see soon repeated before their eyes.

* * *

This was mobilization that hadn't been seen on a scale since WWII. Not even training rehearsals had anything on this. Hundreds of vehicles were heading east from the portal, armored or otherwise. IFVs, APCs, and lighter vehicles. And at the forefront of the Canadian forces in the South were Leopard 2A4/A6 tanks leading the charge. American convoys of MRAPs drove to the North of them.

It was only about 2,000 men in total. An advanced element made up of the battalions and regiments that been fully formed up. Mostly armored and mechanized forces that wouldn't be able to get into the city. Instead, they would get an early hold on the city perimeter, open the way in for the infantry when they arrived after them as well as destroying the enemy camps that had been set up outside the walls.

Occasionally, they would see civilians watching them from afar with a mix of awe and fear in their eyes. News coming over the net was that the enemy was being bled dry since yesterday by their allies and now by the airborne soldiers.

And just in was the news fresh out of Clément-sur-Mer that an entire army had surrendered to the garrison and relief forces there.

It was quite encouraging considering for the Canadian soldiers that were heading into what many joked to be "Medieval Mogadishu", a joke shared with their American counterparts. Irony was that 'Black Hawk Down' was screened in certain Canadian Army units as part of Christmas celebrations. It was rather quite jarring as many soldiers were thinking of Christmas that was in a few weeks.

Now they were stuck fighting religious fanatics instead of shopping… but it was what Canada demanded of her soldiers.

* * *

Back at Clément-sur-Mer, Colonel Hamilton and Colonel Roberts were once more in the base's radar room. Both had been urgently called up. A radar operator was reading them a report.

"We have a dozen enemy warships that have just left from these three ports," the technician said, "Same ones we watched go home yesterday."

"That confirms what our teams have been saying," another voice chimed in.

"Harper, what do your teams have for us?" Roberts as the CSIS agent and his American counterpart entered the room.

"We had men watching in the ports still. They were loading up more troops, a few thousand at the very least. Lightly armed, possibly reserve forces. No dragons, cavalry, or artillery."

"Do you have any idea where these reinforcements would be headed?" Colonel Hamilton asked.

"Considering the reports that these ships were broken off from the main assault on the capital and were some of the largest transports, it would be safe to wager that they are heading to reinforce Cromwell's main assault," Devers reported.

"Thank you M. Devers." Roberts said before turning to Hamilton, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Hamilton nodded.

"I believe that the helicopters should be ready to go for another mission. How far out are these ships?" the American asked.

"They're still in port. I'm willing to bet they'll take the same route they did yesterday. Perfect for an intercept in a few hours time."

"Splendid news eh?"

* * *

"Good shot there man." one of the Blackhawk pilots said to his gunner. In the optics, they could see the last ship of Albion reinforcements convoy fall out of the skies. Burning hulks crashed into the sea below with their precious cargo still on board.

Both helicopters had launched and flown out to intercept the reinforcing fleet over the ocean, closer to Albion's coast than the Tristanian one. It was a grim fate, but war was full of those. Now they flew back to base. It was a short journey for them. As they passed back over the coastline, one radioed the other.

"Hey, you noticed that cloud of smoke over there?"

"Isn't that where Tarbes is supposed to be?" Tarbes was the closest city to the base, although still half a day away by the local means of travel.

"Shit." They radioed back to base and were cleared for some quick reconnaissance.

The two Blackhawks quickly banked over towards Tarbes. The smoke grew thicker as they got closer. The pilots felt dread as they had a feeling of what might have happened. They switched to thermals. The sight confirmed their fears. The enemy had burnt down many of the buildings. The church was blazing orange in their optics. The warehouse was still intact though… with Albion troops gathered around it, though many began to run.

"Those sick bastards," one of the pilots muttered, "They've set up some kind of fucking pyre. In front of the church."

The pyre was less shiny than the church but it was still bright. Meaning it had just been used. The pilots didn't need to guess that it was some kind of religious fanaticism that had brought on this. They knew how religious this world was compared to theirs. ISIS was still fresh in their mind.

A voice came over the radio and drew their attention to another portion of town where Albion troops were busying themselves… with shovels. Horror filled their hearts as they saw what was unfurling.

"Command, there's a mass grave over here!"

* * *

The Albion troops could finally see their victory in their sight. They could see the Royal Palace closer than they did the night before, its proud towers and walls standing defiantly against the ruined city. The Tristainians had finally withdrawn into the inner city, leaving the rest to them.

Despite this, they did not feel victorious but tired. It had been a long bloody night with little rest, fighting against a desperate foe that did everything it could to deny them an easy victory. The whole city had fought against them that night… not just the soldiers.

As they advanced through the streets, they had seen the outworlders' airships land regularly with dozens of men aboard. Were the outworlders that desperate to stop the march of the righteous servants of Brimir that they would sacrifice any man that they could?

A unit of Albion pikemen were advancing down one of the streets, unknowing that their every step was watched from the skies above them.

"We've got eyes on them sarge," a Canadian trooper whispered to his section leader, hidden inside a luxurious manor. His leader quickly contacted his superiors by radio and the rest of his platoon before nodding.

"Engage those hostiles!" the sergeant ordered.

It all happened in a blur for the Albion troops. One moment, they were walking on the streets… the next second, they being cut down by heavy musket fire from the nearby buildings that punched through . Explosions began to appear amongst the ranks as well, tearing apart men with impunity. Unfortunately for that unit, their mage had been cut down in the first few instants. No magic could save them. The decimated unit soon broke.

This played out in many of the streets surrounding the inner city. The columns of men falling back brought horrifying news to those who were heading into battle. They spoke of warriors who could turn any mundane building into a fortress and who could fire muskets with lightning-like speed with accuracy and range unheard off.

The Albionian troops tried their best to avoid the fire- scaling walls, shields, trying to sneak around. But nothing worked. These musketeers seemed to know exactly where they were. Drones above- new ones brought over from the States while the ones from the night before recharged - kept a tight shift around the city center. All the while, more CH-146s were coming in. Joined by a pair of US Army CH-47 Chinooks now, the entire 3rd Battalion had made it to the Capital and now the air assets were flying in plenty of munitions and supplies to sustain the fight. Medical units from both armies were being flown in, and steps were being made to fly in an additional two infantry companies from the 10th Mountain.

The Canadian firepower bought the Tristainian troops more time to rest and reorganize. What little medical capabilities they brought was swamped but still much appreciated.

* * *

"They are finally starting to pulling their weight," Duchess Vallière commented as she looked over a map of the capital, "Have our forces manage to rally?"

"We have formations available but many are woefully understrength," one of her aides reported, "Many have lost most of their men."

The duke sighed as he massaged his temples. The casualties had been grievous for the Vallières' army. Nearly half of their men were wounded while a quarter were dead. The rest hung on by a thread.

"What of those who can still fight?"

"Tired milord… very tired. We are completely out of shot but the enemy's assaults have stalled and they have withdrawn to regroup."

The two leaders mused at what they could do now. If the strongest Tristainian army in the capital was that badly in shape, the Vallières did not want to imagine how the other noble armies were faring. A counterattack was out of the question. Their musings were broken by a messenger, a member of the small Tristain Royal Army, entering and bowing respectfully to them.

"Duke Vallière, Duchess Vallière, the Queen wishes to summon her generals to the Royal Palace for an emergency meeting. Your presence is required."

"What is happening?

"She wishes to discuss with all the lords and our allies about the course of the battle together as she is in touch with their general."

"Understood, we shall depart right away," The Duchess said as her and her husband stood up.

* * *

After their meeting with Kirche, Saito and Louise went off in search of her family's army, the Germanian mage instead choosing to go find some rest with Tabitha who had shown up. It was a mess as the streets were filled with men from the various armies. Many carrying wounded soldiers and anytime the pair would ask for directions, they would be told different things, much to their annoyance and exasperation. At a certain point, they even ran into a Canadian-manned position whose leader told them to get back to safety as beyond them was no-man's land and the enemy.

But then they got lucky in their wanderings, but only because generals moving parted any mass like the Red Sea.

"Mother! Father!" Louise shouted as she saw her parents pass by with their guards, causing their heads to snap.

"Louise! My daughter! By the Founder! What are you doing?" her father shouted in surprise before her parents made their way to her.

"Didn't her Majesty order you to remain in the Palace?" Her mother asked angrily, "This is no place for a child!"

Louise quickly hid the Founder's Prayer book in her cape while Saito froze up.

"W-we wanted to help in the fighting!" Louise tried to defend herself.

"And how are a pair of children going to fight men who have toppled the ruling family of a Blessed Realm?" her father asked, "Come, you are to return to the Palace with us!" he ordered.

"But-"

"There will be no buts. You are not fighting the enemy Louise! You will stay in the Palace!" her mother cut her off, "Familiar! You are coming with us as well. I do not wish for my daughter to lose her familiar because of foolishness."

"Bu-" Saito's protests died as his blood froze under the Duchess' withering glare. The pair merely followed silently, muted by the intimidating presence of the Valliere family heads.

Very soon, the group was once more in front of the Royal Palace.

"Duke Vallière, Duchess Vallière, I am quite happy that you are both well," Agnes said as she stood at the main building's entrance. The Musketeer then noticed Saito and Louise.

"Her Majesty has been looking everywhere for you," the Captain said dryly, "She was quite worried to say the least." Louise shrunk when her parents glared at her.

"I shall take all of you to the Palace's War Room," Agnes said before motioning for a pair of Musketeers to follow behind Louise and Saito.

The walk was uneventful despite how animated the palace was. Tired civilians were waiting anxiously inside the main ballroom while rows of agonizing injured could be seen in the various hallway waiting for medical attention. It was rather quite grim despite the luxurious interior of the Royal Palace.

Finally, the group arrived to the war room. The Queen, General Du Poitiers, and Lord Grammond were already there, along with a few men sporting the green military garb and armour of the Canadians. Several blocky objects were on the table, presumably their communication contraptions. Saito almost gasped at seeing an Earth officer.

"So glad that you could make it Lord Vallière, Lady Vallière." The Queen sounded relieved. She did not speak directly to Louise and Saito. "We were waiting on Lord De Grandpre. He was injured in the fighting and was getting his wounds tended."

"Will it be long before he recovers?" Duke Valliere asked urgently.

"The Palace healers has assured us that he will be here shortly and his messenger has told us to start the meeting without him," Du Poitier reported.

"What of Admiral De Châteauneuf?"

"He and the Navy are still fighting. According to his latest dispatch, most of Albion's fleet has broken off to attack Grand Duke Guldenhorf's relief army. His remaining ships are trying to stall the enemy's efforts at stopping our reinforcements."

The duke and duchess nodded.

"I have summoned you here because we have a break in the fighting to strategize with our allies. I'm sure you've seen by now they've sent their troops into the city. Their commander is here." She motioned to one of the man in green uniforms. He was indistinguishable from the other Canadians present.

"Thank you your Majesty," he said respectfully, "I am Lieutenant-Colonel Frédérick Côté of the 3rd Battalion of the Royal 22e Régiment and I am in charge of the men that have arrived in the city over the past hours. I am also in direct contact with General Carignan, the commander of the relief force."

He briefly bowed to show his respect to the nobles.

"Let us start this meeting then," Du Poitier said, "What is the current state of our armies?"

The grim look on the gathered lords told everything before Marshall Grammond began to talk.

"My men and ammunition have been exhausted. We require a few hours of rest in order to be able to fight again. Even with a few hours, I do not believe it will be enough to fully recover. My casualties have been severe. At least a third of my army is injured and we do not yet know how many have perished." the Marshall reported, "If things continue as they have, I cannot guarantee my army will still exist at the end of the day."

"As for our army, half of our men have been injured and a quarter lay dead in the streets of the capital," Duke Vallière stated, "We have expended all of our shot and I believe that we will not hold another day if the enemy is not defeated before that."

"The various orders have suffered greatly as well," Duchess Valliere added grimly, "Many of our knights have injured or slain in battle against the enemy's knights."

Henrietta looked over another man- the messenger from the Grand Duke.

"Very well," Du Poitier said plainly, "What of Grand Duke of Guldenhof's armies?"

"We have marched all night long to reach you. My lord fears that our men will be too tired to fight well," the messenger stated almost apologetically, "We have 9000 from the southern lands under many lords."

"Has your lord met with the enemy?" Henrietta asked, not noticing Lieutenant-Colonel Côté's faint smile.

"No, your Majesty. We met no enemy forces during our march." The man seemed hesitant for a moment. "Before we left, there were reports of Gallian troops moving around our border." He said uneasily.

"Have they been marching towards our lands?" Henrietta asked grimly. Meanwhile, Lt-Col Côté gestured to one of the signalmen who nodded as he transmitted the Gallian developpement. He turned back to the gathered nobles.

"What do you know of the Gallian leadership's current intentions?" he asked, "Has there been any unusual activity or movements with their armies anywhere else along the border?"

Marshall Grammond shook his head before he answered.

"My scouts have not reported any unusual activities from the Gallian armies. As for King Joseph, that fool is an absolute enigma when it comes to his intentions… perhaps he is either fortifying his borders against Reconquista or preparing to invade us once the fighting is over."

That last statement left an unpleasant taste in Côté's mouth. More useless fighting due to a madman's ego and whims.

"I see. I'll send word of this to my superiors and they'll decide the course of action concerning Gallia. Of course, there is no intention of abandoning you to them," the Canadian reassured, knowing how his superiors felt about losing proper allies, "Let's focus on our current situation."

"Lieutenant-Colonel Côté, what is the state of your armies?" du Poitier asked urgently, "How will it take for them to relieve us?"

"Our full forces should arrive at the capital in 7 hours. Both our countries together have mustered over 10,000 soldiers to join the fighting here."

"Only 10 000 men?" Duke Vallière asked skeptically, "Will they be enough to break the enemy?"

"More than enough Duke Vallière," Côté answered confidently, "We are bringing some of our best forces." The man turned to the map of the city on the table. "They'll be surrounding the city to cut off any possible enemy escape routes before moving into the city to remove Albion's forces."

"Will they be in any shape to fight?" Marshall Grammont asked, "They left your world only last night, did they not?"

"They'll be fine." The Canadian wasn't concerned. "What all of us here need to worry about is keeping the city center secure so we have something to catch them against. It seems that Albion's forces have stopped their attacks for now. My men can hold the front while yours rest."

"Will they be enough?" Duke Valliere asked before Côté answered with a nod.

"I am very confident in my troops' capabilities. Our airships will be back to offer support at our beck and call. Since we broke the siege on the base this morning, we can put all our focus here." He added in a more pleasant tone of voice.

"When was this?" Duchess Vallière questioned. While Major Evans had relayed it to the Queen and the Earth forces in the Capital, word hadn't reached the commanders in the streets yet.

"We received word of it just a few hours ago." Henrietta explained. "The Albion lord besieging the base has surrendered to our allies with the remainder of his army."

"Almost 2000 men according to estimates," Evans added "Another 8,000 were killed in the fighting."

There was evident disbelief in the room amongst the Tristainian nobles. Sure, the casualties had been heavy here, but there were tens of thousands of soldiers. The base only had a few hundred.

"So don't worry about the battle. Go rest you and your men for now. You've done a superb effort in beating back Albion all night and I'm happy to fighting alongside you right now." the Canadian commander praised, "Don't wear yourselves more than is needed."

Someone cleared their throat.

"You have something to add Major-?" Henrietta hesitated on the man's name.

"Major Evans, your Majesty," he corrected politely, "I just had word relayed back from the Joint Base: We have destroyed an entire Reconquista fleet that was returning here with reinforcements out at sea."

"These are wonderful news," Henrietta said, "Word of this must get out onto the streets."

The gathered nobles nodded in agreement though some were still skeptical. So many enemy casualties in such a short time was hard to believe. Still, good news was very welcome in such dire moments.

"Unfortunately, we've received news from our scouts as they were flying near Tarbes." Evans added more soberly, "Considering we saw ships before the attack break off from the three fleets, we believe that small bands of Albion troops are marauding around the countryside and raiding towns for supplies. We believe that they are using Tarbes as a main encampment- it is close to the coast."

It was not something surprising for anyone in the room. Marching armies in Halkegenia often had barely enough foodstuffs to stay well nourished and the local countryside was always a good source of fresh supplies.

"That was the good news," Evans continued grimly, "Our scouts have reported that Tarbes has been razed by Reconquista."

There was a pause as everyone tried to digest the information.

"Razed?" Henrietta asked quietly, "Have they seen any survivors?"

Evans shook his head.

"No. The scouts have seen a pyre and mass graves. I'm afraid that there are no survivors as far we can see."

The Tristainians gasped in horror. They knew that Reconquista was fanatical but no idea just how far they were willing to go for their beliefs.

"Brimir protect their souls," the young queen prayed, "Is there anything that can be done for Tarbes?"

The Canadian shook his head.

"As much I hate to say it," Côté spoke up, "We must focus on the capital right now."

Cromwell was becoming the next man that needed to be tried for war crimes.

Everyone soberly nodded as the door suddenly swung open, revealing a Navy messenger. The man looked pale and shaken.

"Excuse me," he said in a shaking voice, "But Admiral de Châteauneuf has perished!"

"What?!" Henrietta almost shouted, "How can this be?"

"His ship was destroyed by the enemy's flagship." The man nervously licked his lips. "We...have no Navy left, your Majesty."

"Every ship has been destroyed?" Duke Valliere asked, barely hiding his horror at such news.

"The _Defender_ barely made into her moorings before she broke up," the messenger said sadly, "We are trying to save as many survivors as we can from the wreckage."

"Brimir protect them," Henrietta prayed again while Lt-Colonel Côté looked serious. The Major quickly got on his radio to pass on this news back to the Academy.

"Your Majesty, I must excuse myself for a moment. I will speak with General Carignan about this… latest development."

* * *

"We haven't lost the war in the air, but our allies have." General Carignan stated before her staff, "The Tristainian Navy has gone down fighting and is no longer a viable force. We've neutralized the enemy's Navy except for their command vessel."

There were a few murmurs inside the command tent. The odds were evening out, but not yet won. The enemy Navy was done in except for its most powerful asset. They had the city center, and by extension the most important assets to save, under guard but there were still thousands of enemy troops in the city.

That ship could cause plenty of problems to their forces though. They had to neutralize it somehow.

"What options do we have?" Carignan asked her subordinates and American counterparts, "Destroying that ship above the capital is our last option." She clarified.

"We can attempt to lure the ship away from the capital's airspace," one suggested, "Of course, we would need to have something big enough to entice it to shift its attention away from the fighting."

That was the main issue that they faced as the only thing to probably shift that ship's attention was the North American relief forces. It would require great timing as they would need to have helicopters present at the same time. To do so meant potentially pulling away sorely needed firepower that was required in the present.

"Why not outright board it?" An American suggested. "We got helicopters in theater and Special Operations on the ground. That's the stuff they're trained for, isn't it?"

That was all true. The Special Forces teams had been in the Capital fighting to defend the diplomatic compounds, but there was nothing stopping them from being shifted to offensive action, especially now that there were more boots on the ground defending the compounds. The Brigadier had the authority to order such an operation. But there were only two dozen of them, and likely hundreds of enemy personnel on that ship. They could very well run out of ammo before they secured it, or get overwhelmed by numbers. And that would be if the helicopters could get them to ground in the first place.

"It's too risky." Was the conclusion after they discussed it. But it was still a step above shooting it down while it was above their heads. "It'll only proceed if no other means are available." Was the decision. As it was, the ship was motionless after defeating the Tristainian Navy. It had stopped being a direct threat for now. But if it did again… they'd take the risk.

* * *

During the whole meeting, Louise and Saito had remained silent. There was simply so many important figures in one room that were at work that they didn't dare speak at all. After the meeting was over, the Queen had asked for a private moment with them, her voice barely hiding her anger.

Now the master and familiar were standing in the same quarters they had left earlier during the battle with Henrietta looking at them.

"Lady Vallière, I believe that my orders were quite clear when we last spoke," Henrietta said in a very formal and serious voice, "Why have you chosen to disobey my orders?" No longer were the talking like friends. This time, the conversation was between liege and subject.

"Y-your Majesty," Saito stammered before being cut off by Louise.

"I must apologize for my familiar's disobedient behavior, your Majesty," the mage said, bowing before her queen, "And my poor decisions in letting myself influence by his decision to disobey an order from my Queen."

Henrietta sighed tiredly.

"You are forgiven for your transgressions, Lady Vallière but I will not tolerate that you recklessly risk your life in such a fashion. Have you been able to harness the power of the Founder's Prayer Book?"

Louise looked down at her feet.

"No, I have not your Majesty," she said dejectedly, "We have not been able to unlock its secrets."

"I see… you are to remain here and attempt to discover its powers," Henrietta ordered, "I will assign a guard to make sure that you remain here… Louise-Françoise."

* * *

Cromwell wanted to pull out his hair as he read his latest reports. The messenger had quickly left after handing him his papers.

"How is this possible!?" He ranted as he threw the reports, "How dare they interfere with my will… with Brimir's!?"

The reports was that a small band of outworldly soldiers had arrived in the city. At first, it seemed that the enemy was desperate… until Cromwell read how this small band of soldiers had all but humiliated his forces whenever they met in battle. Entire units would be forced back effortlessly and no matter where they struck, his men were always met by the otherworlders. What foul magic or entities did they consort with to have such foresight?! It was a heresy that tarnished Brimir's world even worse than the Elves. Those foolish Tristainians would have to pay for such an alliance. This realm had to be cleansed by the fury of His righteous followers.

With their presence however, something started to nag in his mind.

"Where is Sheffield?!" he said to no one, "By the Founder, where are my reinforcements?!"

Down below, the fighting continued. All the fighting was on the ground, now. That was the good news that convinced Albion's Lord-Protector that he was doing his Founder's work. His fleet had wiped out the Tristainian Navy.

"9000 men from the South… nothing to worry about," he muttered to himself as he read another report, one that had been sent by messenger pigeon right before the ships were intercepted. Not that Cromwell knew yet.

* * *

Guiche groaned as he collapsed against the wall of a manor. Light snoring could be heard as him and his men rested their tired, aching bodies, the wounded already having been transported to safety of the Palace. In the distance, it seemed that the city had fallen calm once again, the sound of battle having died out for the time being. Both sides were licking their wounds.

Verdandi snuggled up to his side, its large body proving to be a comfortable rest. Normally, the young noble would have refused to let himself be seen in such a way but now was not the time.

Appearance was not a luxury he cared much after the past night of battle. He heard the sound of boots thumping against the ground. Turning his head over, he saw bulky musketeers dressed in green-beige patterned clothing moving down a street.

' _More of our allies' soldiers,'_ he mused as they marched pass him.

Some waved as they pass, cheering the Tristainians.

"You really fucked them up!" One called with a grin on his face.

Guiche noticed how some looked young and fresh while others looked older but sharper, their eyes darting around. These men looked determined to fight… almost as if they were defending their own homes. Confidence radiated from them. The young man remembered how they first arrived in Tristainia, bringing death and fire to their common enemy.

A voice suddenly snapped him out of his musings.

"You got any wounded with you?" one of them asked as he walked to him, flanked by other soldiers, "We can patch some of them up."

The dark-skinned man looked older and experienced.

"N-No," Guiche stammered, his voice hoarse from exhaustion, "We've already brought our wounded to the Palace."

He glimpsed at the man's uniform. There were various insignias and writing at different places. Guiche could make out a pair of crossed swords with 'MOUNTAIN' above it on the man's left shoulder underneath what seemed to be a flag. On his chest, he could read 'Monroe' and 'U.S. ARMY'.

"Good." The man then began to reach into a pouch on his armour before producing a green bottle.

"Drink up son. You looked thirsty."

Guiche took the bottle and almost emptied it, the cool water refreshing his tired body. The others handed water as well.

"Don't worry about the water," the man said before the noble could say anything, "Rest up. We might need you soon if Albion pushes harder."

"Thank you very much milo-" Guiche stopped remembering his meeting with the Canadian officer a few months earlier.

"You're welcome milord."

With that, the soldiers left, joining the rest of the relief force.

* * *

"Lord-Protector!" a messenger said urgently as he bowed before the Reconquista leader, "An enemy army has arrived from the south!"

"These are lies!" Cromwell roared, "The Founder would have prevented them from getting here!"

The messenger shrunk and quaked in his boots as he saw his leader walk to the side of the _Lexington_ and looking out towards the south with his telescope.

"Where are Brimir's ships?!" he ranted, "Have they sullied His Name with their incompetence?! Blasphemous fools!"

As Cromwell scanned the skies, he could see none of his ships but he could make out plumes of smoke rising from the south.

"Liar," he muttered angrily, cursing the messenger, "The smoke is the enemy's defeated and battered armies… not His ships burning. Yes- yes-..."

He lost all words as he looked to the ground and saw ranks of men and horses marching proudly. His tired mind could barely comprehend what was happening here.

"This-this must be a test of my faith in Him," Cromwell shakily muttered to himself, "I merely need to have faith in his Will and my reinforcements will arrive with Sheffield when they'll be most needed and I will claim another victory for Reconquista! This is but a test of Faith."

He was rambling, but his mind was not entirely gone. He knew deep down what he was seeing was that his ships had been destroyed. A small bit of logical reasoning made its way through the delusion, but it didn't have anything good to say: _What if the ships carrying the reinforcements had been destroyed too? What if Sheffield was dead?_

A spark of clarity ran through Cromwell's sleep deprived mind as he looked over his flagship and its crew. He knew how he would end this battle. It would take but one swift, savage blow to end this battle. He could defeat the outworlders not with force, but with leverage.

"I want the _Lexington_ to attack the Royal Palace. We shall bombard it before landing and capturing that foolish Tristainian brat that dared stand against His will," he ordered, his voice cold and calm. His officers looked nervous. "Order the crew to arm themselves."

"Milord, are you certain of this?" one asked hesitantly, "The enemy's Palace defenses are still intact and they can certainly inflict great damage upon our ship."

"No, Brimir will protect us, His faithful, from harm," Cromwell insisted with absolute clarity, "So press on with this attack. Our boldness will earn His favor and grant us a great victory. The army will intensify its assault against the enemy."

His officers looked at each other uncomfortably before nodding in unison. Their leader's sudden calmness unnerved them all.

"It will be done milord," one finally answered, "We shall send word to the army as well."

* * *

It had been almost an hour since Cromwell had issued the order to attack. As time passed on, the Reconquista leader noticed that his ship had not moved. In the distance, he could not hear the sound of battle. Tristainia was silent. He walked out of his quarters and saw his officers conversing.

"Why are we still here? Why can I not hear the sounds of battle?" Cromwell asked, causing his officers to jump in surprise.

"Milord!" the most senior of officers exclaimed as he turned to face his Lord-Protector.

"Explain this immediately. Is this insubordination from Brimir's finest officers?"

"No-no Lord-Protector," the same man stammered, "We-we were merely waiting for the army to refor-"

Those were the admiral's last words. In a flash, Cromwell's left hand flew up from his side, a purple ring shining brightly as he chanted a few words. The admiral straightened out before walking, puppet like, to the side of the _Lexington_ before leaping off into the ground below.

The other officers gasped, their faces contorted in horror at what they had just witnessed. They looked at their leader. His face betrayed no emotions as he looked at them.

"Brimir punishes those that defy his will. Now, can this final, decisive assault begin?" Cromwell asked calmly.

A chorus of "Yes, Lord-Protector." confirmed his officers as they moved around. Orders were being issued. Men moved around and messengers took off, carrying commands to the various army commanders.

The _Lexington_ began to move ominously towards the palace.

* * *

"Shit" was a word shared by both drone operator and the forward elements of the joint American/Canadian relief force as they saw the Lexington fly toward the palace. Inside the Palace, panic sparked as hundreds of refugees fled from one side to the other. The Musketeers and even the Palace staff took up weapons like they expected the enemy to land. At the same time, they did their best to guide the civilians safely through the hallways, trying to avoid a stampede.

And at the Embassies, the beginnings of the boarding operation were taking place. Weapons were checked and extra ammunition tucked into pouches and pockets. Extra ammunition was loaded into the helicopters and their pilots, who'd never performed a boarding operation before, doing whatever last minute checks they could.

The most daring Earth operation in Halkegenia up to this point was about to kick off.

* * *

Grand Duke Guldenhof looked grimly through his telescope as he saw the enemy's flagship hovering ominously above the smoldering capital. His army was forming up to attack Albion's rear guard. Scanning over, the Grand Duke noticed something strange… the enemy seemed to ignore his presence.

"Grand Duke, what are your orders?" one of his subordinates asked as he rode up to him.

"Order the Luft Panzer Ritter to attack the enemy. They are entirely committed to attacking the capital."

The powerful dragon knights of the Grand Duchy of Guldenhof were some of the finest, if not the finest dragon knights on the mainland, being only bested by those from Albion.

"Yes, Grand Duke. It will be-"

"By the Founder!" The noble exclaimed as he looked through his telescope. A series of explosions tore through the rear of the Albion army and encampment.

"What power has done this?!"

He scanned once more the battlefield and found his answer.

Rows upon rows of war wagons with cannon attached to their top that were firing into the enemy's lines and advanced with great speed.

* * *

The flurry of activity continued in the Palace as the _Lexington_ approached.

"Her Majesty has ordered everyone able to fight to man the walls," Agnes said as she passed one of the Musketeers guarding one of the many rooms.

"Even if-"

"New orders Renée!" Agnes ordered, "No exceptions!"

"Understood Captain de Milan," the musketeer replied respectfully as she followed her commander. She hadn't noticed that one of the occupants inside said room was listening to every word that had been said.

"Now's our chance Louise!" Saito exclaimed as he slowly opened the door, "She's gone!"

"B-but-" the mage stammered as she stood up from her chair, "Our orders you idiot!?"

Saito shook his head.

"New orders… her Majesty wants everyone on the walls!" the teen said as he slid out of the room.

"Y-you i-idiot! You're sleeping on straw when we get back to the Academy!" Louise ranted as she followed her boyfriend.

* * *

"Lord-Protector! The otherworlders are here!" a messenger reported urgently to Cromwell. He was met with naught by silence. As he looked up, he saw an emotionless face looking back at him, undisturbed by the grave news.

"They are breaking through our rear. Our men are powerless to stop them. Their armoured wagons and cannon are too powerful for even our mightiest mage to stop!" the messenger continued, trying to impress Cromwell with the urgency of the situation.

"It is of no consequence," the Albion leader finally said, "Brimir will grant us final victory. We merely need to act decisively and He will grant us victory."

Cannonfire began to be heard.

"The Palace guns are firing at us!" a crewman reported urgently.

"All men to battle stations!" the captain of the ship ordered, his voice amplified by magic.

* * *

On the fields outside of the capital, the battle had been joined. Canadian forces had gone around the south of the city to attack to Albion forces in the west while the Americans commenced battle against those east of Tristania.

If one could call such a scene a battle. Armoured vehicles from Canada and the United States were shelling the Albion forces from a kilometer away. Albionian cannoneers could seldom understand their powerlessness as their guns and they were shattered one by one. How could the enemy command such range. How had Brimir allowed such monsters to exist?

The proud Albion cavalry, unused so far in the battle, formed up and rode forth to meet their enemy. It was a magnificent sight as their holy banners flew in the air, their armour and weapons gleaming in the sunlight. Their horns sounded the charge while leaders urged their men onwards.

They could see their enemy's monstrous metal beasts in the distance, lumbering towards them. Large ungainly green monsters that moved without horses over the ground, kicking up dirt behind them as they moved tirelessly across the ground. It was almost an insult to Brimir's land as their presence defiled the ground beneath them.

One noble held his sword high as he led his fellow riders into what he believed was glorious battle.

"Forwards men of Albion! Our Founder is with us on this day! He shall-"

The noble never finished his sentence, being struck down by the monstrous beasts' powers. The entire unit disappeared under a hail of concentrated coaxial fire from the tanks of the 12e Régiment Blindé, both men and mount. Some horses survived the hail of fire but their lifeless riders were dangling from their saddles.

In a few instants, the Albion cavalry ceased to exist as they were swept aside by the Canadian Army's Leopard 2 tanks. There was nothing left between the soft belly of Albion's army and the sledgehammer that was the North American relief force. As they dashed forwards, the armoured vehicles' firepower tore through the Albion rearguard with ease. Formations hastily thrown into the way collapsed like a house of cards, men torn apart by the violent firepower or mentally broken by such a demonstration of brute force. Magical shields and earth barriers failed to buy any meaningful amount of time for those who cast them. Fireballs merely singed the front armour of the Canadian tanks before their casters disappeared in explosions, anti-tank assets being priority targets for the main gun.

Infantry disembarked from their transports and pushed forwards with the LAV-III's providing a withering hail of fire to cover their assault. Sporadic gunfire could be heard as the Canadian infantry advanced and encountered bands of fanatical Albion soldiers who tried to fight despite the odds.

In the north, the 10th Mountain moved swiftly, unimpeded by any Albion counterthrust. The enemy had all but collapsed. MRAP's provided fire that tore through the enemy's wavering ranks while the Mountaineers disembarked to mop up any nonsense from the enemy forces. It was swift and unforgiving.

Others cowered on the ground or raised their hands in surrender to the advancing Canadian infantry. The initial assault broke through the Albion lines and outer camps. As the soldiers advanced, they came into sight of the enemy's inner camp. They raised their weapons as they moved forward just in case if anymore zealots ran out screaming for blood. A tired man walked out, a bloodied white rag in his hands. His clothes were stained red as he raised his impromptu white flag.

"Please! Please! Have mercy!" he pleaded desperately, "By Brimir, I implore of you to spare this hospital!"

"Keep your hands where they are!" a Canadian sergeant shouted as her men advanced, "Cooperate with us and we will spare you!"

"Yes-yes!"

"Secure this area!"

The Canadians bound the man before they moved forward. They could moans of agony the closer they were. Blood stained the ground beneath them. They saw stretchers with men in various state of injury and consciousness. Other wide-eyed casualties lay on the grass as they agonized, fear and pain mixed on their faces as they saw the imposing soldiers.

That was what they found most of all in both camps: wounded. So many wounded that the tents couldn't hold them all and many men were hosted outside. The only 'military' target any of them found were metal working tools and barrels full of spare weapons. But for the most part all they captured were thousands upon thousands of men wounded by a warfare far more primitive than theirs. Some peered inside the tents to secure them.

Needless to say, medical science had come a long way since the 1600's. Even with Water Magic, the ferocious fighting had simply flooded the Water Mage healers who had to use mundane healing means to try and treat the torrent of casualties. The healers begged for help, hoping that their foes would show leniency to the wounded men.

Then cannon fire rang out from the walls- Albion troops using abandoned Tristainian defenses. But the shots fell well short of the camps; obviously Albion hadn't set up that close to the walls. Tank and TOW fire responded in kind, and new sections of Tristainia's wall fell down. The cannons fell silent in an instant.

The healers who were at the hospital blanched at the sudden attack before dropping to their knees to beg for mercy, trying to say that they played no part in the sudden cannonade.

"Keep an eye out for any funny business huh?" the sergeant ordered, "We'll give you the benefit of the doubt for now but try anything and we will shoot to kill."

The last few words were crystal clear for the captured Albion troops.

The Earth soldiers were outnumbered 7-1 here, but no one was willing to give them trouble, especially after the surge of grievously wounded and shocked that had come in wailing about demonic airships. The hospitals were locked down, the breeches in the walls secured, and word send back that they'd be ready for the rest of the infantry to arrive.

There was one last transmission though, warning command of something that the British military attache and the 3rd Battalion commander had already relayed moments before: the Palace was being bombarded.

* * *

In the skies near the Palace, cannonballs flew back and forth as the _Lexington_ traded fire with the Palace's defensive cannons. It was a furious engagement as the gunners on both the battlements and the Albion flagship worked feverishly to load their weapons. The fate of this battle was in their soot covered hands. Projectiles crashed into the battlements, sending shards of stone flying everywhere. Occasionally, a cannon was hit by the _Lexington'_ sweapons, shattering crew and weapon. The Palace defenders were also battering away at the massive ship's hull with their weapons. Fighting had resumed in the streets leading up to the inner center of Tristainia, Albion troops smashing against desperate, tired but defiant Tristainian defenders or were mowed down by fresh, resolute North American troops.

Amongst the chaos on the battlements, Louise and Saito were trying to help as best they could. The Tokyo teen was running around with powder bags to help reload the Palace's defenses while Louise was trying to guide him in the confusion.

"Saito! Look out! A little to the right- I mean the left!"

"What are you doing here Lady Vallière?!" an angry voice sounded, causing Louise's head to snap. It was none other than Henrietta who was glaring at her.

"Did I not order you to remain in that room?!"

"Your Majesty! We wanted to ass-"

"Wha-arghhhh!"

A cannon had hit a nearby wall section, sending debris flying everywhere. A chunk of masonry had struck Saito and knocked flat on his back.

"SAITO!" Louise shrieked as she ran to him. She held his head. He looked slightly dazed.

"Urgh. Wha-what just happened?" he said, confusion apparent on his face as he saw his girlfriend's worried, tearstained face while pain radiated from his body. She kissed him… and both suddenly felt a burst of power between them.

"What's happening?!"the pink mage exclaimed as she felt power flowing through her body. Light began to surround her as runes floated towards her head. Saito's runes shone brightly as well.

"She's awakening!" Derflinger suddenly said, "Her powers are awakening!"

"What!?" Henrietta exclaimed as she ran over. Louise's eyes had gone blank as began to chant an unknown spell. She stood straight as she pointed her wand at the enemy ship.

"Buy her some time!" the sword ordered urgently, "Her spell will take a moment to chant to give it full power."

"What's happening?" the queen asked worriedly as she saw the light gathering around Louise. The other Tristainians looked at the scene, their jaws slack from shock.

"Keep firing!" The sword yelled again, and for some reason everyone did. The fighting continued for several moments longer while Louise didn't move an inch.

Light began to encircle the pink haired mage before turning into a white beam that sped out towards the ship. It missed, streaking past its target and over part of the city before turning into a great ball of energy that detonated into a powerful pulse that hit the massive warship, rocking it violently. Wood cracked and shattered. Cannons were suddenly blown from their secure locations. Albion sailors were knocked over the side and to their deaths below. What was left of the shockwave hit the battlements, light enough to not cause damage but still send dust and loose debris into the air.

At first, it seemed that the ship was still airworthy but creaking sounds began to grow louder and faster. Pieces of the hull began falling at a quicker pace while the ship began to quickly lose altitude. No doubt that the explosion had damaged the windstones. It tried to break away from the Palace battlements, more pieces falling off as it desperately flew away.

It kept losing altitude as it approached the edge of the city, and for a moment everyone on the battlements were sure it was going to crash into the city. Instead, the massive ship of the line landed directly on a section of wall, snapping its spine unnaturally in two. The back half of the ship fell into the city, and the front fell into the fields outside Tristania.

Shocked silence rained not just on the battlements, but all over the city. Everyone, Halkagenian and all, had just witnessed some terrible form of magic that destroyed a flagship wholesale. Only one person wasn't surprised by it.

"T-told you you were powerful," Saito chuckled weakly. Louise was still standing with her wand held out in front of her.

"You might want to catch her, partner." Derf warned just a second before Louise's small form began to crumple.

* * *

Nearly 3,000 people from Earth witnessed the explosion, and to say it caused a mild panic would be an understatement. Troops outside the city hit the ground. The ones in the center of the city stopped their fire to do the exact same as what looked like a MOAB went off in the air not too far from them. The Spec Ops teams, just about to lift off for the assault, disembarked to watch their target fall from the sky while the Embassy staff inside were taking cover under their desks. An American Chinook in the airspace was buffered by the dissipating shockwave and quickly retreated out.

"Bloody hell!"

"Calisse de tabarnak!"

Major Evans and Lt-Colonel Côté had seen it from inside the Palace. The Canadian was on the radio and almost dropped the handpiece he was using.

"Fucking hell." One of the SAS operators said less eloquently as he looked out from the helicopter. There was a torrent of Quebec, American, and British swearing that was going off all over the city.

"Do you have any idea what just happened General du Poitier?" the Canadian officer asked urgently, "Was that your forces or the enemy's? The Tristainian commander paled.

"Power like that is unheard off save for some legends from the days of the Founder," du Poitier finally answered after he recomposed himself.

"Unbelievable," Côté muttered before turning to the Tristainian general, "Please figure it out as fast as you can. That might've caused some friendly fire. And we'll need to see where it crashed. I'll update our General on this."

The detonation came with a grave implication: someone had potentially bought a weapon of mass destruction to the table without anyone knowing.

"I will send one of my men to see and we'll do what can to find out how it happened," du Poitier replied before he ordered one of his men to do so. The man hurried off as fast as he could, barely believing what happened.

Lt-Colonel Côté ordered his signalmen to get a status report from his units, hoping that none had been caught in the blast zone or crushed by the falling warship.

* * *

Back at the Academy, the comms center was being overwhelmed with traffic. Reports of a sudden large, mid-air detonation flooded the comms while General Carignan and her staff tried to make sense of the situation and discover if any casualties had been sustained.

But one fact was apparent: the enemy flagship had been the target and was out of the fight for good. So either it'd been someone on their side or the enemy had screwed up with their own magic. But the entire Canadian military had been getting briefings on magic since the worlds connected, and this was unheard of.

But it wasn't a perfect science, so surprises were to be expected. If that had been magic, it had been some magic on par with some of Earth's deadliest weapons. Definitely a matter that needed to reach the upper echelons of American and Canadian leadership. It was something that could change how diplomacy was conducted in Halkeginia… especially if other powers had such capabilities.

While the Pentagon and NDHQ received word on a possible escalation, Lt-Colonel Côté contacted the Brigadier directly.

"M. Côté, can you confirm the reports of a possible WMD being used by Albion's forces?" the general asked urgently.

"We don't fully know what happened but we can confirm that a very large burst of what seemed to be magical energy suddenly appeared and detonated in midair. According to what we witnessed, there was an almost blinding white light before the detonation happened. It's caused shockwaves around the city center, but no casualties no far."

"Very well, what else can you report?" Carignan continued.

"The ship has partially crashed inside the city walls," Côté reported, "We don't know if anyone survived though. Part of it landed outside near the advanced force. It's surprisingly intact"

"Get in contact with the advanced elements. I want them to secure that ship as soon possible then," Carignan ordered the communications section., "Someone might've survived who can tell us what happened. What are the enemy forces doing?"

"They're running. I don't think they understand what happened and I presume that they think it's our fault." That was something, but as long as the enemy was retreating.

And whether or not they realized it, they were retreating right into the noose the Earth forces had set up.

* * *

The destruction of the _Lexington_ had caused shockwaves inside the war torn streets of Tristainia for both sides. The most tired defenders felt a second wind carry them forward while the Albion troops were divided. Some saw the loss of their ship to such a phenomenon as a sign that they had lost divine favor from their Founder and chose to drop their weapons as they fled through the ruined capital. Had the outworlders used unholy magic against them to rob them of any chances victory? Was it displeasure from Brimir? Could their enemy be preparing to use more of this power on them? Many chose not to tempt fate and ran away.

Many others saw anger flare up their hearts as they sought to avenge the loss of the _Lexington_ and possibly even the loss of their Lord-Protector chosen by Brimir to lead them to glory and salvation. This weapon or magic was a perversion of the Holy Gift that he had given humans. It was their duty to fight the heretical enemy that had bought such a blasphemous power to defeat them.

And so they hurled themselves forward against their foe. Some were trying desperately to make their way to the fallen flagship, hoping they could save their Lord-Protector. In this chaos, more gaps had appeared in the already porous Albion lines.

Some Tristainians saw the opportunity as they dashed forward, a burning desire in their hearts to finally expel the enemy that dared defile their capital.

"Forwards men! For Tristain!" Guiche yelled as he rose his sword once more, this time hoping it would be the final assault.

* * *

For the Canadian troops outside the walls, the shock of seeing the enemy capital ship crashing was soon dissipated. There was plenty of cursing as the soldiers remanned their blocking positions in anticipation of anyone trying to get out. The ruined wall segments were perfect obstacles to slow down any retreating forces.

As the broken Albion troops clambered over the debris, they heard loud voices.

"Men of Albion! Surrender now and you will be spared!" the voices demanded in perfect Albionian, "We will grant mercy to those who surrender! Drop your weapons and raise your hands above your heads."

Some were quick to cooperate, tired of the near constant bloodshed of the past day. They threw down their weapons with no hesitation. Others refused to surrender and drew their weapons. Some even cut down those who surrendered, cursing them as traitors and heretics, before charging the American and Canadian positions. The result was a carnage at various breaches as it became difficult to separate surrendering men from those still wanting a fight. The echo of gunfire sporadically reverberated through the outer walls of Tristainia. The advance force was only a portion of the total relief force, but they were more than enough to contain the retreat.

Albion forces in the city who saw their comrades either surrender or get cut down tried going back into the city- only to come face to face with Tristanian forces that had been pursuing them. There was no navy to rescue them. There was nowhere to run. The only options were to surrender or to die. The invasion was over.

Albion- no, the Reconquista- had been defeated.

Now it was only a matter of cleaning up the remaining resistance.

 **Authors' endnotes:**

 **Why no jets, you may ask. The ground forces would do more damage and the planes were just to attack Albion. Shipping in those jets would also take of effort that could been used for other things such as more boots and armour on the ground. You can bomb a city… but you can only secure it when the ground pounders stick a flag in the ground and say it's ours (Simplification but works in this context). Helicopters in this scenario are far more practical, requiring less effort to operate (Helipads vs airstrips) than jet fighters. They also happen to be more than enough to obliterate the Albion Navy and terrorize the ground forces as well as ferrying in men to defend the capital.**

 **The portal is also a severe bottleneck for the coalition forces, forcing the commanders to prioritize what could come in. Unlike in GATE, the Coalition doesn't have weeks or months to respond but barely a day and a half. So they bought in what could do damage quickly… and was present nearby. In this case, the 10th Mountain Division that was already in theater (based in New-York state) and the 2nd Canadian Division (based in Quebec province).**

 **That being said, jets will be coming in...**


	16. Chapter 14: Picking up the Pieces

**Disclaimer: FoZ/ZnT belong to the departed Noboru Yamaguchi and whoever inherited the I.P.. Any real life organisation/person is merely being used in a fictional non-profit way. Special thanks to Trainalf for co-authoring this. As for further deployments, it's gonna be limited. Combat in Halkeginia doesn't require large amounts of troops given the extreme technological differences; What was sent was more than was needed in the first place… for example… the 4th Battalion isn't even a Regular Force unit… it's a Primary Reserve unit or as some of my friends serving in that unit joked, a** _ **militia**_ **unit. The artillery guns at the portal were C3 howitzers from a reserve unit… a modernized version of a WW2 American artillery gun, the 105mm M2/M101 howitzer. Considering what they did… no need for more.**

 **As for Louise, you cannot simply arrest another citizen/subject from another country without a valid crime against humanity reason… and do remember that** _ **Fate of a World'**_ **s Louise is a very decent if short tempered and unconfident person unlike canon (especially in the anime) where she would be arrested for domestic violence. She hasn't abused Saito at all and her treatment of him is within normal and acceptable bounds. Making her disappear would be out of the question since there would be simply too many questions asked that could risk the alliance.**

 **As for Earth staking a claim on Halkeginia… not happening simply because it would be political suicide in Canada and in the US to get that much involved. It would be seen as an invasion of a sovereign kingdom not to mention a way of making civil unrest as people would be clashing over the old vs the new ways. It would also be a source of backlash at the UN… Trump might not care about the UN much… but Trudeau** _ **fucking does**_ **as Canada's international reputation and national identity is based off the good work it does at the UN.**

 **There's also the fact that the local government is viable if outdated by Earth standards. Canada and the US won't have to build a regime from scratch and deal with having to legitimize it to the locals. It's much less costly working with Henrietta and the nobles to rebuild Tristain and shore up a bit the local, functioning government than to force a complete change of system.**

 **Picking up the Pieces**

Cromwell stood up in a daze. His footing was uneven and it took a moment to realize he was standing on a slanted service. He couldn't understand what had just happened to his flagship. One second, it was fighting proudly against the blasphemous Tristainians before a massive burst of light engulfed him. Was this the power of Void magic?

He looked around and could see only ruin. The _Lexington_ was destroyed. He looked directly up and saw not only the towering walls of Tristain, but the point where the hull had been torn in half. It would never fly again.

He wasn't the only one awake. Footsteps could be heard as the crew fled the ship, no doubt preferring to escape the enemy's wrath. His officers were all gone, wanting to save their hides.

' _How did it come to this?'_ was the thought that ran through his mind. It was like his fatigue had been concussed out him. Everything was clear and no longer hazy. He could see the past victories he had gotten against the Tudors. From the small insurrections to the final, great battle that gave his ship its name, it was a glorious string of memories in the name of the Founder.

But it was gone in an instant. Tristainia still stood defiantly and the enemy's reinforcements was entering the capital.

"Lord-Protector! Thank the Founder you are unharmed!" a voice said, cutting him from his grim musings. It was a pair of simple sailors that looked at him devoutly.

"We must get you out of this accursed place and return to Albion!" one of the sailors said urgently, "Do you need us to carry you?"

Maybe there was a chance of salvation.

"Brimir shall reward you for your devotion sailor," Cromwell said weakly as they were about to pick him up, "I do not need assistance to walk." He tried to stand tall. "Come." He beckoned them to follow him. "We must escape before the heretics come."

* * *

The combined footsteps and overlapping murmuring alerted the war room to the approaching crowd before the doors opened to reveal it. At the forefront was Saito, carrying an unconscious Louise bridal style. Beside him watching the pinkette was Henrietta and Agnes on either side. And behind them- a massive crowd of onlookers that had gathered on the battlements and only grown in size once they entered the Palace. Musketeers, gunners, and Palace staff all following.

They were all whispering the same thing to each other and repeating the phrase in their head: Void.

Henrietta had uttered the phrase up on the battlements first, recognizing it immediately for what it was. And everyone had suddenly flocked around her.

The Earth officers had not idea who Louise was or why a near mob had invaded the war room. It added to them trying to understand how the enemy had somehow botched a WMD strike.

"Your Majesty!" Du Poitier exclaimed, "I am glad that you are unharmed!"

"Thank you General," Henrietta answered, "I bring joyous news!"

Côté and Evans looked at each other, suddenly wondering if the queen knew something about the explosion. Her joyful expression had them perplexed as well.

"Your Majesty," Evans cleared his throat, "We need to discuss with you and your military leaders about a very urgent matter."

"What happened Major Evans?" she asked, confused at his uneasy tone.

Another set of doors suddenly burst open and in rushed Duke and Duchess Valliere, followed closely behind by Marshal Grammond. They'd rushed to the Palace to check on the Queen after that explosion, but for the Vallières' another matter quickly took up their minds.

"Louise!" Karen shouted as she saw her daughter in her familiar's arms.

"Aun- Duchess Vallière, your daughter has done a miracle," Henrietta said as she looked at the Vallière matriarch.

This caught Evans and Côté's attention. The pieces were slowly falling into place in their mind but they needed confirmation.

"A miracle?" Marshall Grammond asked, "What do you mean your Majesty?"

"Louise has won the battle," Henrietta declared, "It was her magic has destroyed the enemy's flagship."

"How-how?" Duke Vallière spluttered out while both Côté and Evans' faces hardened.

"Your Majesty, is this true?" the Canadian officer asked seriously. That small girl had done that?

"Many have witnessed it," Henrietta replied, "And I have witnessed it with my own eyes. She is a Void Mage." Louise's parents gasped in shock, a hand flying up to the Duchess' mouth.

"Good Lord," Major Evans said under his breath, realizing how serious the situation had just become. He'd read the briefings on what Void was from a military and social standpoint. Henrietta caught on to the mood of the Earth officers, concerned in the midst of shocked and awed faces.

"That little girl there? She's like a Second Coming to these people." Evans whispered to his Canadian comrade who nodded tensely. "That type of magic is like what the atomic bomb became in our world. We have to tread carefully." Côté grimaced as he nodded, understanding the severity of this situation. Henrietta was still staring at them questioningly.

"Your Majesty, this 'miracle'," Côté paused, trying to find his words to avoid offending the religious sensitivities of the Tristainians, "has somewhat frightened our leadership. I just want to make it clear now we'll have to discuss this dangerous matter later."

The room became a lot more serious as the gathered Tristainians looked at the two officers with disbelief and indignation.

"What do you mean by 'dangerous matter'?" Duke Vallière asked suddenly, his face tense, "My daughter has single handedly won this battle with her powers! How is this a danger?!"

Evans decided to explain and he hoped he could reason with the Tristainians before things got out of hand. This was not the time for a major dispute.

"Her powers are impressive. To able to inflict such destruction in such a short lapse time would make many envious, even in my world," the British officer explained, "Such a capability is what we call on Earth a Weapon of Mass Destruction or WMD for short."

"If such a weapon exists, why do we not use it to win a war swiftly?" Marshal Grammond asked, irritated by his counterparts' lack of will.

"Because using such a weapon can entice your enemy to create his own version of it against you. It would also escalate the conflict even further as they will have a justification to deploy more destructive weaponry." Côté stated, "Bringing only more bloodshed."

"As if Albion could possess a Void Mage!" du Poitier scoffed, "Only a truly pious Blessed Realm could have such a blessing from the Founder himself!"

Both Earth officers looked at each other, realizing they had neither the information or the standing to deal with this. The discussion would have to be done later on.

"Please disregard what I just said. I believe we should discuss this matter once the city is secured," Côté finally said. "The battle is still ongoing."

That did it. What the Earth officers said very much was true. They could all be awed later. Right now, they had to finish saving their city. Saito and Louise were sent away to rest, and the war continued.

* * *

After escaping the crashed _Lexington,_ Cromwell and the pair of sailors had to sneak through the ruined city, trying to find a breech in the wall they could escape through. They ducked into destroyed buildings as the enemy's infernal airships still flew above, not doubt looking for anyone who had survived the crash. It was a harrowing task, any slip could mean death or capture. They would hide everytime they could hear the chopping sounds draw near them.

At the same time, they also tried to find any straggling Albion troops to aid them in their escape. Their search had not yielded anything. They could hear the enemy's regular gunfire in the distance. And soon the streets they sulked were full of prowling, vengeful Tristainians. They were being hunted.

Cromwell silently prayed for salvation as a group of Tristainians passed by. None of them decided to enter the ruined building. The three men waited for the soldiers to pass. The sound of wings flapping caught the Albionians' attention.

"Lord-Protector!" one whispered, "There's a pair of mages on the street in front of us. One has a large dragon."

Cromwell knew this meant as an opportunity as he walked out of the building. The two mages were two girls, probably old enough to be students at the Academy. One was a well developed tall redhead while the other was a bluenette that looked like a fragile doll.

Kirche and Tabitha suddenly heard a voice before their bodies seized up.

"With this brilliance, become my prisoner!" a blond man dressed in ragged green clothes shouted as a purple streak of light surrounded the two girls.

"What's happening?!" Kirche exclaimed as she and Tabitha were forced to kneel before the man. The diminutive bluenette recognized the ring on the man's hand.

"The ring of Andvari!" she exclaimed, to Kirche's shock.

"You mean the ring that was stolen?" Their adventure to the Water Spirit with the others seemed so far gone after all this time. Kirche had honestly forgotten it.

"Y-yes!"

"Someone help-" Kirche's words died in her throat as the ring's magic forced her into silence.

"By order of Brimir's chosen prophet," Cromwell spoke, "you will help me esca-"

A roar cut his sentence as a dirty, bloodied figure dashed from seemingly nowhere, with a sword in hand. Kirche and Tabitha saw the flash of metal slice through the air before a spurt of crimson liquid sprouted from the man's elbow.

Cromwell looked at his handless arm as shouted in pain before he collapsed.

"Guiche look out!" Kirche called, free of the ring's effect. One of the sailors was raising his own sword above the young noble's head, which he just barely managed to block. Both sailors surrounded him threateningly, vengeance on their mind.

"How dare you attack our Lord-Protector?!" the sailors roared, "You shall pay fo- argh"

Rapid gunfire cut both of them down. Looking to the source, they saw musketeers in checkered green uniforms emerging from another street.

"Secure those locals!" a voice shouted as the men and women moved to protect them, their muskets still raised.

"Canadian Army! Is everyone alright?" one of them asked quickly, "Anyone injured?"

"No-no we're unharmed," Kirche managed to answer, "Thank you for your help!"

Guiche was breathing heavily, trying to wrap his mind around what just happened. He had almost died right there.

"Lord Grammond! Are you unharmed!?" another voice shouted. Some of his unit had caught up to him.

"Morin! Take a look at that man!" a man instructed, "Pépin and Lessard, secure that prisoner! Make sure he doesn't bleed out!"

"Yes sarge!"

Morin made his way to Guiche, telling the Tristainians to let him through so that the medic could help him. Meanwhile, the two other soldiers had managed to stop the fallen prisoner's bleeding.

"He's in a bit of shock but he should calm down soon," the medic reported as he helped calm down Guiche.

The sergeant turned his attention to the girls.

"I am Sergeant Julien Gingras," he said gently, "Can you tell me what has happened here? How did you end up here?"

"Yes, we were trying to help find survivors and some of our friends who went missing during the fighting," Kirche answered, "We had landed with Tabitha's dragon here when that man came out of nowhere and used some kind of magic to control us. Our friend then saved us by attacking the man."

' _Son of a bitch,'_ the Canadian thought before contacting his superior for further instructions. He was ordered to keep watch over the prisoner and locals until his lieutenant arrived as well as trying and get more information about the prisoner if possible. Judging by his dress, the man looked important. Perhaps some kind of religious figure or battle priest? He quickly got the names of the nobles there.

"Do you know who this man might be Lady von Zerbst?"

"I'm afraid not."

"The sailors said he was a Lord-Protector," Guiche suddenly said up from where he was sitting. Just then, they heard someone call the sergeant's name. A pair of familiar men arrived, dressed in Canadian uniforms.

"Lieutenant Huynh!" Kirche exclaimed as she recognized him and Corporal Brisebois. "You are here?"

"Lady von Zerbst," he greeted. "Our Battalion just arrived at the city outskirts." He explained before turning to Sgt. Gingras, "What do you have for me?"

The sergeant quickly explained what he had gotten from the locals. When he mentioned 'Lord-Protector', Huynh's eyes lit up. The 4th Battalion had been in Tristain long enough to hear from various sources that Albion was led by a man with such a title. He quickly ordered Brisebois to contact command and advise them of the situation before receiving his new orders.

"Brisebois, I want the platoon to secure the area around us. 100m perimeter around us where no one gets in or out without our say."

"Yes sir!" the radio operator said before he began transmitting. Huynh turned to Gingras.

"Have you been able to secure the ring this man used to… control minds?"

The sergeant nodded and produced a ring from his vest.

"Yes sir. Had to get it off the man's severed hand and clean it up a bit." he reported, "It needed it."

"I see."

"Excuse me Lieutenant," Kirche suddenly spoke up, "But that is the Ring of Andvari. We must return it to the Spirit of Lake Lagdorian."

Tabitha nodded while the officer looked at them skeptically.

"It was stolen from her." the bluenette explained monotonically, "We need to return it to her or else she will flood the land."

"Tabitha was tasked with a mission to stop the flooding and she must return this ring to the Spirit that lives there."

Huynh suppressed a groan. Even if the locals sounded desperate, it was more bullshit superstition in his mind. Maybe they told the truth. He was in a land with actual magic after all. In any case, he knew just the answer that would get him out of this. Hopefully.

"I'm afraid that this whole matter is something that only my superiors can decide on," he finally answered, "I will transmit your concerns to them for a final decision concerning this ring."

"But Lieutenant!" Kirche protested, "That ring must return to Lake Lagodorian!"

"Like I said, my superiors will decide of what to do with such a dangerous item," he said, "They'll look into this matter."

"Patience," Tabitha said quietly, calming down a protesting Kirche.

"Alright."

"A smart proposition milady," Huynh said before turning to the unconscious man.

"Which one of you is responsible for incapacitating this man?" the lieutenant asked seriously as he wanted more information as well as a confirmation. The two girls pointed to the blond teen.

"I am," Guiche answered, his voice surprisingly steely to him, "As your sergeant said, he was about to force these fair maidens into being his hostages."

The lieutenant grinned as he listened to the boy.

"Did you hear anything unusual when you were fighting him? Anything that can identify who this man is."

The blond teenager nodded.

"Yes, after I-I had struck him down, two men came forth and shouted 'how dare I strike down their Lord-Protector'." he explained, still vividly remembering his close brush with death.

"Lord Grammond, am I correct?"

Guiche nodded.

"I'll put in a good word for you. I have a feeling you did a lot of good today milord," Huynh said before Brisebois interrupted him.

"Command says a team'll come and pick up the VIP. ETA 5 minutes. They're real interested in this tabarnak."

"Wonderful," his leader said as he looked at the unconscious man. Very soon the sound of helicopters could be heard as one hovered above them. A special forces team fast-roped down and their leader had a brief discussion with Lieutenant Huynh about the current situation. He handed them the Ring of Andvari, explaining its powers. The team leader's nodded, his face wary of the ring as he secured it in his vest. The team then secured the unconscious VIP before they were hoisted back into the helicopter.

Guiche wondered briefly if those warriors were the same that he had met during the night before. There was the same aura of lethality around these men that even seemed to intimidate the lieutenant.

"You think that's really the guy in charge?" Brisebois asked his superior as the special force team left.

Huynh thought about it for a few seconds. It would be too convenient but plausible for such a thing.

"Maybe, maybe not. Back in the 1600's, it was common to see kings and emperors lead their armies personally while trusted people ran the show back home," he explained, his History courses coming back to the forefront of his mind, "Could just be a decoy though, like Queen Amidala and her servants in Episode I."

"Maybe we'll get a medal if he is!" One of the sergeants was clearly joking.

"Could be funny!" Since the VIP was out of here, they had to get moving again. 4th Battalion had orders to clear out the areas near the city center and open a corridor from the walls to the inner city. Once everyone else arrived, they'd be combing these streets for days looking for stragglers.

Gunshots and the clashing of metal echoed sporadically throughout the city once more as the North American troops as well as the relief force under the Grand Duke would encounter stubborn Albion troops that refused to back down. In the case of Lieutenant Huynh and his men, it took barely 15 minutes before they were guided around an Albion ambush.

"Bastards thought they could get the drop on us," he muttered as he and his men snuck into a ruined building. They ably navigated the building before exiting on the street. Nearing a corner, one of the lead infantryman did a hand gesture… The enemy was just around the corner and well down the street, but still unaware of their presence. They were still facing away from the Canadian platoon. More hand gestures before the Van Doos moved. Grenades were first thrown into the enemy's formation, their explosion taking their toll on the tightly backed men. Gunfire erupted from the nearby buildings as the other sections had taken position inside those buildings.

Helicopters still flew around, corralling the Albion forces into allied positions while special forces were moving in the ruins, looking for any enemy officer or mage to kill.

This lethal game of cat-and-mouse would continue throughout the day.

* * *

Louise had been sent to rest. Saito was with her and Hayate had been summoned to keep an eye on her. Henrietta had had to fall back on her position of ruler just to get the onlookers to disperse back to their posts. How far would news of a Void Mage spread before the day was over, she wondered? She'd know at the end of day.

Right now though, they still had to make sure the city would be safe at the end of the day.

Still, Henrietta was happy. Brimir had chosen to reward her for her faith in him and her kingdom's piety by giving her friend the powers of Void Magic. Without it, no doubt that they would been defeated before their allies could help.

Despite the victory, Henrietta was uncertain of the future. Many of her kingdom's soldiers were dead and there was probably a lot of destruction and devastation across the lands. Even if Cromwell had been captured, would Albion cease its hostility? If not, could Tristain still fight? What is Gallia of even Germania tried to take advantage of them despite their allies promises of help.

But worst of all she worried for the Church. This would certainly bring them to her court and her lands.

So many kinds of problems in such a short span of time… it had not even been a week since she became queen! How could Tristain overcome such things?

* * *

It was the early afternoon. The number of North American soldiers had swelled to over 6,000 now. A two mile zone had been verified as clear and safe around the Palace while a corridor from the outside was finally clear and was being slowly widened. Patrols would soon be going out to make sure the entire city was safe. They also searched for any injured civilians or soldiers that had been left behind in the fighting while still staying sharp for any hostiles. A few Albion soldiers had gotten lucky and managed to injure the Earth troops by jumping from a hidden place before being dispatched. A dozen soldiers had been injured that way with a few very severe cases.

And in the midst of this activity, a helicopter entered Tristania's airspace, although coming from the West instead of the East. On board was Agent Harper, handcuffed to a case carrying top secret documents. All of them contained information of Albion, but what was important at the moment was the long range photographs of Oliver Cromwell. He was being called in to verify an unconscious POW that might have been the Albion ruler.

As the Canadian lieutenant had thought, Lord-Protector was indeed to title of the man who'd led a revolution in Albion. The information had been passed all along the higher echelons, although no one on site had been able to confirm it. The Tristainians had been asked, but they didn't actually know what Cromwell looked like. Hadn't kept them from wanting to immediately kill the man suspected of being him though. So the matter had rapidly gone from military to intelligence. They asked the agents heading Earth's operation at the base if they had any resources that could confirm, and 15 minutes later they were on the way to the Capital.

The Blackhawk touched down in a cleared area of the Palace grounds. Harper hopped out along with a guard of two other agents. The CSIS agent had a lot on his plate. The report that Lady Vallière had been the one responsible for the destruction of the enemy's flagship confirmed what they'd been told but hoped wasn't the case. It was hard to believe but it happened. A matter to deal with later though. Right now, there was a far more important one.

Agnes was waiting for them as the CSIS personnel walked towards her, her face was always stoic.

"Agent Harper," she greeted professionally.

"Captain de Milan."

"I am to take you to the Palace's dungeon." she said as they began walking.

"Thank you very much," Harper replied, "Is he well guarded?"

Agnes nodded.

"He is guarded by my most loyal Musketeers as well as some of your special forces and agents," she reported, "He is kept in the deepest part of the Palace's dungeon."

"Splendid. Is he conscious yet?"

"No. His wounds were grievous. For such an wrinkly old bastard, he's somehow still alive." She added disdainfully. "He is missing his left forearm."

"How did that happen?" Harper asked as he began noting it down.

"From the reports of the men that brought him in, he attempted to use a magical ring to try and force his control over two mages in order to escape. Luckily, another was able to save them by cutting off part of the arm that held the ring." Agnes explained. The ring part caught Harper's attention.

"What of this ring?" he asked urgently as they entered the dungeon.

"It is kept under lock in the safest part of the Palace," Agnes continued, "For such an artifact to fall into the wrong hands could bring only catastrophe."

"I agree."

Through several hallways, gates and down several stairs, the party walked, finally reaching a collection of dark cells. Musketeers and men from JTF2 stood alert just in case if their 'guest' got a little too active. Harper and Agnes entered the cell. There was already another operator in there, guarding a medic.

"So, how's Sleeping Beauty here?" Harper asked nonchalantly.

"Out like a baby sir. We gave him something to slow his heart rate. Only way to reduce the blood loss for now. From the looks of it, man hasn't had a good night sleep for awhile either, judging by his face." the operator stated casually, "Luckily who ever took him down didn't mess it up."

The agent made a mental note to question the person responsible for this capture for anything he may have missed.

"He definitely looks like our guy." Harper could see the immediate similarities to the pictures they had on file. "Give us some light, please." He motioned to the operator who'd followed him in while he opened the case and took out the photographs. The body didn't even react to having a flashlight shined directly onto its face. Harper knelt down and looked between it and several photographs. He peeled back the eyelids to check the eye color. He carefully examined the sparse hair and every bald spot. He was meticulous in his comparisons. And finally, he stood up.

"Well… I'll be damned! It's our man alright!"

* * *

Trudeau was pacing impatiently in NDHQ's war room as he awaited the confirmation whether or not a Tristainian had actually captured the enemy's head of state on the field of battle. Hearing that their Capital had been saved, even if it involved some sort of unforeseen circumstance, was welcomed news. But if they'd captured the head of state of the hostile nation that had attacked the coronation and then invaded...this was a situation that required immediate and personal attention.

Meanwhile, Minister Sajjan was reading the latest reports. Tristainia was being cleared out while the countryside was still unsecured. Furthermore, it was confirmed that the explosion was a lucky fluke caused by a Tristainian mage.

"M. Prime Minister, we have confirmed the name of the mage that was responsible for that large scale explosion. Someone familiar to us." an aide reported.

"Please tell me," Trudeau asked politely.

"The one responsible is Lady Louise-Françoise Le Blanc de la Vallière. The girl that came to Earth with the Queen at the start of the year."

The prime minister resisted the urge to burst out laughing at fate's little games.

"Are we certain of this?" Trudeau asked, remembering how she was described as a poor mage and how she was nicknamed 'The Zero'. He found it deeply ironic already that a person who could summon explosions at will was deemed a failure. This just added to the irony that Louise de La Vallière.

"Many witnesses can confirm this, including Queen Henrietta herself," the aide continued. "Our forces on the ground are considering the girl as a walking WMD and reported that she's viewed as some sort of religious hero for them." Resolve one problem and another crops up.

"Let's just focus on their and our security right now."

A phone rang, one of many, and Trudeau thought nothing of it at first. Then he got the news from Minister Goodale: CSIS confirmed it was Oliver Cromwell that had been captured.

"Well… at least the war's going to end a lot faster now."

And Trudeau wagered that he would win the next elections at this rate!

* * *

Trump burst out laughing when he received the news about how the enemy flagship was destroyed. He was at the Pentagon with Mattis.

"This is wonderful news Jim!" Trump exclaimed, "You don't get battles that go this well on Earth! Queen Henrietta knows how to choose her friends!"

The sheer scale of defeat Albion had faced couldn't help but fill Trump with glee.

"Indeed M. President. If we can confirm that Oliver Cromwell has indeed been captured, it would make our day."

"Damn straight! It'll warn the rest of those wannabes in that world that the United States will not be pushed around."

Just then, the news came back from Halkegenia: Their people on the ground confirmed it- their prisoner was Oliver Cromwell. Trump let out a triumphant laugh.

He had upstaged every last administration! No one had won a war so fast, so decisively, and no one had captured the enemy's leader so quickly!

A single tweet appeared on Twitter and social media burst into celebration.

* * *

The news reached the Royal Palace's war room as well. There was much rejoicing by the gathered nobles.

"Well, what are waiting for?!" Count de Grandpré exclaimed, "Let us hang this man for his crimes against our lands and against the Tudors!"

The lord had finally recovered enough to be present. The gathered nobles and even Henrietta agreed. It was just retribution for a man who had dare commit blasphemy, regicide, usurpation and led an invasion of their lands after trying to murder their Queen.

Côté and Evans looked at each other with mutual concern. As much as they were wanting justice to be dealt to Cromwell for this whole mess, they had a different way of punishing the man, a way they were sure their superiors would've preferred. It would be a delicate thing to try and convince the Tristainians that the Albion leader should be tried for war crimes. No doubt that he was guilty, but they had their own way of doing things. The people of Earth needed some retribution for the Coronation attack.

"Might we suggest something?" Evans gambled.

"Yes Major Evans?"

"Wait before hanging him," the British officer suggested, before he was met with protest from those gathered.

"How can you ask us to wait?!" Duke Vallière shouted, "He needs to be punished for his actions!"

"It would be better to hang him once his armies have fully been defeated. He would truly be humiliated when he sees that all he tried is completely gone." Evans said calmly, "The Americans and my country did the same thing to a warlord named Saddam Hussein. We destroyed his entire army, captured his palace, killed off his sons on the battlefield before catching up with him. At the end, he was little more than a gutter rat hiding in a hole from our wrath."

It was a little more complex than that but Evans was running out of ideas.

"Not only that," Côté added, "But it would also be something that the people would want to witness after all their suffering."

It was a distasteful way to get the Tristainians to calm down long enough that the higher ups could get something set up. It might have been worth calling over the Ambassadors.

"Your idea has much sense, but only because it increases that foolish man's suffering." Lady Vallière finally said with others slowly agreeing with her.

"I agree," Henrietta added in, "Let us wait before punishing him."

Both men were internally relieved.

"Your Majesty, Milords and Milady, would it be possible to do a tally of your casualties?" Côté asked.

The mood had gotten far grimmer.

* * *

It had been about an hour since the news that Cromwell had been captured reached the command center at the Academy. With the news that the capital siege was broken, it brought more good news. However, General Carignan and the other senior officers still had much left on their plate.

"How much more time before your forces will be ready?" she asked a new face that just arrived a few minutes ago.

"One of my battalions has arrived in Montreal and is unloading," the American colonel reported. He was the commander of the 1st Cavalry's 2nd Brigade. "It should be through that portal in a few hours time."

"Very well. We need a heavier security presence around the portal," Carignan stated, "There's still reports of scattered resistance and according to the local forces there might be hostile movement from a different nation near the southern border. Once they're through, I want them deployed watching our southern flank."

"Understood general."

"Let's get some of the air assets out of here and to the airstrip at Clément-sur-Mer," Carignan ordered next, "They're taking up a lot of space here." Sixteen rotor wings had come through the portal overnight: four Apaches, two Chinooks, a pair of UH-72 Lakotas, and 8 more Canadian Griffons. They decided to send two of the Apaches and half the Griffons. The Lakotas were still needed here to scout for the stragglers around the portal. The Americans had captured around 50 or so, but they were still out there. But the helicopters they were sending could help hunt down the small bands of Albion troops in the countryside between the coast and Tristania.

Which brought them to the new pressing matter besides the Capital: those roving bands. They could not be left unchecked or else they'd plunder and loot the wartorn countryside. They'd already been informed about Tarbes. There was growing fears that other places had suffered the same fate as well. The mechanized force that had broken the siege of the base needed rest and resupply before they could move to save the town. A supply convoy was already en route, but it'd take time.

They were trying to find if there were any more small groups and the higher ups had already instructed them to help defend the borders in case another nation capitalized on the chaos. The drones and helicopters here at the Academy were already combing the nearby countryside, and the helicopters on the coast were looking on that end as well.

Both tasks would inevitably stretch them too thin though and it would take weeks or even months if too many had escaped the initial counterattacks and botched Albion assaults. The pre-war Tristainian Army hadn't even been able to cover all the land and borders, and the Earth force was smaller.

Just then, the tent flap opened, revealing a new group of officers. The Union Jack proudly stood out on their uniforms.

The British Forces had arrived and a round of proper military greetings was shared. The infantry battlegroup from British Army Training Unit Suffield was starting to arrive at Montréal–Pierre Elliott Trudeau International Airport and the officer detail had arrived in advance.

"First class on Yank Airlines." One of them joked about their fast arrival on a fleet of American C-130's.

"So glad that you could make so quickly," General Carignan said, "Did you receive the orders I sent in advance?"

"We'll assume security for the Academy and the portal as soon as we're through." The British Lieutenant-Colonel confirmed. Something else that had come to the officers from above (discreetly from the politicians) - don't put the British soldiers in mortal danger; it was bad for relations. It was something the Americans could relate to from the decade in Iraq. So instead the British would guard the area and free up the American and Canadian forces to do the heavy fighting. It was an arrangement that pleased everyone.

Little by little, the situation was improving.

* * *

In one of the Palace's private quarters, a pair of teenagers could be heard snoring as they rested after the long day's events. Despite it being only mid-afternoon, Saito and Louise had barely gotten any sleep in two days. On top of that, the fact that they had been running all over the place had tired them out. They were both in the same bed while another one had the couch. The older Hiraga sibling had been told by her Majesty herself to rest after he slipped out that he had been working non-stop for hours treating the casualties. Both siblings had a change of clothes. Despite his protests, Henrietta had pointed out to him that a tired healer was not helpful to his patients. As much as he hated to say it, he was barely standing and who was he to refuse the orders of a most charming monarch. That little remark caused the Queen to blush a bit before she excused herself.

Saito's eyes opened slowly as he groaned. He felt sore all over his body and felt something press against his chest. It was Louise who was still soundly asleep. The mage had drooled against his shirt and was mumbling incoherently. It was not an unpleasant feeling to have his girlfriend press against his body.

Saito gently patted his girlfriend's head while having a smile on his face. It felt good to kick back and relax after such a day. He heard yawning and turned to his brother.

"Yo afternoon little bro," Hayate said lazily as he stretched himself, "You sure look comfy."

Saito chuckled a bit.

"You know mom's gonna kill both of us if she ever sees us again?"

"Yeah, think she saw us on TV?" Saito suddenly asked, "We did tell her that we were going to the coronation afterall."

Both brothers groaned before snickering.

"Here's hoping dad managed to calm her down a bit." Hayate finally said, "Still can't believe we got caught up this mess though."

Saito looked at his brother guiltily. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly as he tried to talk.

"Hey Hayate?" he asked.

"Hmm?"

"I'm-I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess," Saito apologized, "If I hadn't-"

"Shut up Saito," his brother interrupted him before he could say anything stupid, "I don't think you planned on some crazy guy declaring a war. Besides, we're both still alive and well."

"Yeah, this is still crazy though," Saito said, thinking back to his meeting with the agents, "You're just a medical student while I ended up working with a queen without even finishing school! I wonder if this isn't going too fast. I wonder if I could have done better you know?"

His brother shook his head.

"Listen, I don't know what to say," he finally said, "But I think you're doing good Saito. You got a nice girl and you still helped both worlds get together. Not a lot of people your age can say they did that."

"S-s-aito," Louise suddenly muttered as her eyes opened, "Wha-what happened?"

She let out a yawn and sat up, finally freeing Saito to do the same.

"Well, you fainted after you destroyed that ship," Saito explained, "Everyone started gathering around you and praying to Brimir before her Majesty chased them off and had us sent here. Oh, and you drooled all over my clothes."

Louise flushed pink, matching her hair before rubbing her face.

"Yo-you dog! I do not drool!" she stammered, "What-what do you mean gathered around me?"

Her familiar/boyfriend snickered a bit.

"Well everyone was in awe of you," Saito finally recalled, "Like they saw a god or something."

"That can't be true," Louise argued, "I'm the Zero. There's no way I could have done that."

"Well you'd better start believing it!" Hayate exclaimed, "Cause from what I heard, you saved the Palace from that ship."

"You're a Void Mage, Louise." Saito said simply. "Just like Colbert and the Queen believed."

"But...I don't fully remember it." Louise muttered quietly.

"Void Magic can be triggered automatically in times of crisis." Derf spoke up from the wall. "And you won't recall it completely. It's a whole different thing to do it intentionally."

"Yeah. You did it after I got knocked in the head by rubble." Saito explained with a grin.

"Which didn't really hurt you at all." His brother pointed out. "But it sure as hell scared your girlfriend." Louise didn't even respond to that jab.

"Everyone was worried after you passed out. Your parents-,"

"My parents?!" Louise shrieked.

"Yeah, they came rushing up to make sure the Queen was alright but once they saw you it was the only thing they cared about. They seemed really proud when they heard you were a Void Mage."

This was all a LOT for Louise to take in. That she was really a Void Mage, that she'd apparently saved the Kingdom, that her parents were PROUD of her of all things...it was a lot to drop on a poor girl's head right after she woke up.

"What's going to happen now?" She wondered tiredly as she looked out the window.

"I have no idea." Saito shrugged casually. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest. "But whatever does, I'm going to be right here with you."

"S-Saito…" Louise mumbled in embarrassment as he embraced her.

"I can leave if you guys want to have some time alone." Hayate interrupted teasingly the moment from across the room. Louise flushed red, muttered something along the lines of 'y-you dog' and threw one of her shoes at him.

* * *

As the sun was setting on Earth, two of Earth's leaders were once more discussing with each other along with parts of their cabinet. A video call had been arranged between the Prime Minister's office and the Oval Office.

"Good evening M. Trudeau! I take it that you've heard the good news." Trump said giddily, "This war's all but won."

Trudeau nodded in agreement.

"Indeed, we are winning this war but we need to think what needs to be done after the war," the Canadian said, "We both know that Tristain's been hit badly and that they want Cromwell hanged for his crimes. Without a proper trial."

Trudeau put special emphasis on those last words.

"Frankly, that man's already guilty," Trump retorted, "And it'll make those who wanted us to win happy. Trial'll only slow things down."

Trudeau shook his head. Letting the Tristainians hang Cromwell without due process, no matter how obviously guilty the man was, would make every party involved look bad in the eyes of the international community.

"The international backlash at the United Nations will not help us or the Tristainians," Trudeau insisted, "The last thing we both need is other countries wondering if we are sanctioning war crimes in another world. It would also play against us if we want to get help from our allies."

Trump seemed to be silent as he pondered Trudeau's argument.

"Not to mention the field day the media would have with this," the prime minister added, knowing Trump's bad relations with the press. His good ones were at stake as well…

"I see what you mean M. Trudeau," Trump finally realized, "So how do we go about this?"

Secretary Pompeo cleared his throat as an idea came into his head.

"We could sell it to them as being a way of completing Cromwell's humiliation? Explain that such a trial would be a way to paint him as a criminal rather than a conqueror." the Secretary of State suggested, "Not only that but we could try and convince them that giving him a trial would give them the moral high ground, that they are better than Albion."

At that moment, Minister Freeland decided to add in her opinion.

"It would also be a way to humiliate Albion's surviving leadership. Instead of being remembered as a religious crusader, Cromwell would be branded as a criminal. Anyone associating with him would not be helping their religion but working with a felon."

Both Trudeau and Trump could see the reasoning behind this.

"The main issue is if the Tristainians would answer to this logic." Trudeau remarked, "We also need to see who's in charge if Cromwell's gone. We still need an official peace treaty to put an end to this."

Trump groaned in his seat.

"Do we even know who's in charge in that place?" he grumbled, "For all we could know, it could be another nutcase."

"The country might plunge back into a civil war. If he set up the chain of command to have only him at the top, there might be a power struggle among his subordinates. " Mattis suggested. "Might even still be some loyalists to the old regime looking for revenge. It might prevent another invasion, but it's hardly a situation we want."

"Indeed Secretary Mattis," Minister Sajjan pointed out, "But we can't get too involved in Albion either. I doubt the public would want a medieval version of Iraq or Afghanistan."

Everyone in the conversation nodded in agreement.

"Not to mention that any intervention against Albion's home islands would have to be approved by Queen Henrietta and her government, since we'd be operating out of their lands." Freeland remarked while Pompeo agreed with her.

"Speaking of the Queen," Trudeau changed subjects, "We'll need get to get in contact with her soon. See how she's planning to act in the times to come."

Freeland's face was deep in concentration as she thought up of an idea.

"Perhaps we could hold talks in North America to decide how we go about this situation?"

"I'm not going back there after what happened." Trump interjected, the close call at the Coronation having rattled him.

"The feeling is mutual M. President. Besides, the countryside might not be safe for some time," Trudeau added politely, "Perhaps hold a conference in the United States?"

The Canadian Foreign Minister figured out her Prime Minister's decision. No doubt that Canada had already been host to many of the talks. It would be a way to give a bone to the Americans as well as reducing security costs.

Trump looked pensive before he answered.

"I like that idea. Perhaps New-York City could be a good place for this. It would awe them too," he finally answered.

"The United Nations are there as well," Pompeo added, "Perhaps we could arrange for them to visit?"

Everyone seemed to agree with the idea.

"We also need to discuss emergency aid to Tristain," Freeland said, "No doubt that this war has caused them a great deal of damage to their lands and cities."

"There are still reports of stragglers roaming the countryside," Mattis added, "We still haven't gotten the numbers yet. We also have unconfirmed reports of troop movements from the Gallians on their southern borders. It could mean anything if what they say about King Joseph is true."

"Not to mention that their armies are severely damaged and that their navy is all but gone," Sajjan continued, "That constitutes a major security issue for all of us if the Tristainians can't stand on their own."

"Speaking of security issues, we also have Lady Vallière's powers that must be discussed," Trudeau added, "If she can truly turn a battle that way, not doubt that every other nation in Halkeginia would do everything in their power to get their hands on her."

"The religious implications surrounding her powers' manifestations also have to be taken into account," Minister Freeland stated, "Apparently, the Tristainians started worshipping her as if she was a holy savior."

All the gathered politicians felt the urge to massage their temples. This was another delicate matter that they had to face given how religious their allies was. One wrong move could hamper their diplomatic efforts.

"Well, we got a lot of issues to deal with," Trump finally said, "Far too many for this evening alone."

"Agreed," Trudeau answered, "At the very least, we must contact Queen Henrietta right away to congratulate her for her efforts"

* * *

"Your Majesty. We have received word that the ambassadors wish to discuss with you," Agnes reported to Henrietta and the other Tristainian commanders, "It appears that Prime Minister Trudeau and President Trump wish to speak to you as soon as possible."

The war room was still full despite the early evening. Food had been brought up from the Palace kitchens as the occupants still had a long night before them

"No doubt that they wish to celebrate our victory on this day," General du Poitier said while the others agreed.

"It appears to be the case General du Poitier," Agnes said, "They wish to invite the leaders of the armies that have defended Tristainia to come and discuss as well."

"Tell them that we will meet them in my personal study," Henrietta said as they left the war room for her office. As they walked through the hallways, they could hear the agony of wounded civilians and soldiers. The grim expression on Henrietta's face hid her pain and heartache that she had for her suffering people. Was it a test of character from the Founder?

Finally, they arrived in her private study. It was a large white room with handcrafted furniture and luxurious carpets. The moonlight from the twin moons mixed with the candles to light up the room. The quiet elegance clashed with the shattered, smoking buildings in the city outside. The door opened, revealing Agnes and the two North American ambassadors. Behind them were some of their security details.

"Good evening your Majesty," Ambroise said soberly as they entered the room, "I hope that you are doing well."

Both men had serious looks on their face.

"I thank you for your concern Ambassador Ambroise," Henrietta replied, "The past days have been quite taxing."

"Indeed," Fitzgerald said simply, "May I install my computer here?"

Henrietta nodded as he set the computer on her desk before opening up the video call. The familiar faces of President Trump and Prime Minister Trudeau appeared on screen.

"Good evening Queen Henrietta," Trudeau said gently, "On behalf of the Canadian people, I send you our condolences for your losses."

"The American people stand by you," Trump declared, "And are proud to stand alongside the brave people of Tristain. That's was a fine display of courage your Majesty."

"Thank you, M. Trump, M. Trudeau," Henrietta answered, "Your words are well received in these trying times."

The nobles approved.

"I must say this though," Trump continued, "I am impressed at your people's tenacity in holding off that maniac Cromwell's attack."

"We would not be speaking had it not been for the courage of the Tristainian people," Trudeau added, "But we are not just here to congratulate you for your efforts in winning this battle."

"Oh?"

"We are also here to discuss how this war is going to end," Trump stated in no uncertain terms, "Honestly, your Majesty, there's a lot that needs to be discussed."

"Indeed," Trudeau added, "There are a considerable amount of issues that we need to face together."

Henrietta nodded in agreement.

"Let us start immediately then," she said seriously, "So that we can resolve them."

Both North American leaders shook their heads.

"We believe that this requires a proper meeting," Trudeau said, "And days of discussions."

"What do you mean?" Henrietta asked surprised, "Can we not discuss right now?"

"No, I am proposing that you and a delegation come to talks on Earth," Trump said, "Because this will require hard work."

The nobles tensed up. Were their allies going to demand payment for their presence?

"Of course, we'll delay any such meeting until your lands are fully reclaimed, your Majesty." Trudeau clarified, "Your presence is still needed in Tristain for your people. No doubt that you have become a hero to them because of your actions and defiance of Cromwell's assaults."

Lord Vallière cleared his throat suddenly, not liking the politeness and what seemed to be sugarcoating.

"Excuse me but may I ask you a question?"

Trudeau looked at him.

"Yes?"

"Are you going to demand tribute or payment for your armies?"

Trump almost burst out laughing before he shook his head.

"Excuse me but the United States is more than rich enough to finance its own army," the American president boasted proudly, "We don't need your money!"

"We do not need repayment for this," Trudeau said more tactfully, "We need to discuss in detail how can we help you rebuild your lands as well as how to end this conflict with Albion. That of course are but two of the many issues that needed to be resolved. At a later date though." He repeated.

As much as they hated to say it, the man was right. The countryside was still unsafe and the capital was in ruins. There was also many wounded, dying or dead inside the capital and it would take a lot of efforts to help all these people. No doubt that the countryside suffered similarly.

"Our forces will be able provide some immediate humanitarian assistance," the Canadian Prime Minister continued, "My commanders will be ready to work with yours to coordinate the efforts."

"What can your forces offer us in terms of help?" Marshall Grammond asked.

"We can set up efforts to distribute emergency rations of food and water to the people in the capital," Trump explained, "The US military has more than food enough to go around."

The gathered nobles' eyes narrowed at the man's bragging tone. It was irritating and was reminiscent of the Germanians' condescending ways.

"We can easily cooperate with the Tristainian armies to hand out aid. In addition, our medical personnel will also continue their efforts," Trudeau added more politely, "And specialized emergency teams are going to be sent."

"It would help reduce strain on the Water Mage healers," Henrietta said grimly, "Many are exhausted from…"

Trudeau and Trump nodded.

"We understand. There is still one matter left for us to discuss your Majesty, something we feel can't wait: the fate of Oliver Cromwell." Trudeau said seriously, "No doubt that your people have suffered greatly because of his actions but so have ours. The Canadian and American people want justice for the Coronation attack as well."

"Damn right!" Trump exclaimed, "But we want him to be punished properly. We need him alive for now and we would like to talk about how he's going to pay at the conference." It was a 180 from his earlier position. But if this was how things had to be, they weren't going to skimp out on it.

The Tristainians tensed up. Just who did this man think he was? Even Henrietta couldn't help but feel that Trump was being too demanding.

"Must I remind you that my kingdom has suffered the most out of those gathered here?" Henrietta asked firmly, "I understand that your people want retribution for those who have suffered during the Coronation but countless scores of mine lay dead or injured all across my lands because of Cromwell's heretical ways."

The queen had a good point.

"We understand your Majesty," Trudeau said diplomatically, "But our people have means of punishment that yours may not have thought of. No doubt that discussing them once the battles have ceased will allow us to proceed forward with cool heads."

The Tristainians wondered just what kind of punishment these people had. Fouquet had disappeared without a trace and it seemed that Earth had forgotten her very existence.

"I have but one question that I wish to address that I also feel cannot wait," Henrietta finally said, "What of the treatment that your secret services have inflicted on my dear friend, Lady Louise-Françoise Le Blanc de la Vallière and her familiar, Hiraga Saito?"

Both North American leaders were surprised… while Lord and Lady Vallière began to fume. The ambassadors were both mentally preparing a defense.

"What do you mean your Majesty?" Lady Vallière asked, her voice cold and threatening, "What is the meaning of this?" she looked at the screen and at the ambassadors.

"I'd like to know that as well." Trump's confusion was genuine.

"Your agents acted, without your permission or knowledge your ambassadors told me, to question and intimidate my dear friends." Henrietta explained, with special emphasis on the last three words. "They knew she was a Void Mage and withheld that information from us." There was an outbreak of scandalized murmuring from the gathered nobility.

"Probably." Trump didn't refute the claim. "We'll look into it." He passed the matter with surprising casualness as if he was discussing about the weather.

"We shall do the same on our side," Trudeau added politely, "No doubt that this has been a terrible error in judgement. I shall discuss this with Minister Goodale."

It was a little too fast and friendly for the Tristainians' liking and blindsided them. At the same time, it seemed a little too good to be true.

"Pardon me if I have trouble believing your words," Lord Vallière said dryly, "Your agents threatened my youngest daughter and her familiar."

"We don't know if that's true." Trump said pointedly. "But we will find out."

"I assure you that this situation will be properly and promptly resolved," Trudeau promised.

Lord Vallière still had a look of disbelief as his face narrowed.

"I hope so!"

"I believe that we have said all that has been needed to be said," Henrietta stated sternly, "I suggest that we retire for this evening. Her two counterparts agreed. The video call ended, and the Tristainians returned to mending their damaged kingdom. On Earth, the US and Canada continued to communicate.

* * *

At Clément-sur-Mer, things were busy. Prisoners were still being secured and treated. High ranking prisoners were being isolated specifically. Extra steps were being taken to guarantee the safety of the base and all personnel despite the fact the armed threat had surrendered.

Devers was getting ready to have a one-on-one with the officer who'd surrendered his force to them. Just a few basic questions, probe on any wider military maneuvers. But while his conversation partner was stewing, he got an abrupt summon to the Colonel's office.

As he entered, Colonel Hamilton gestured him to sit and handed him the phone without a word but eyes that quite clearly said "You've fucked up.". Devers' eyes widened once he heard the voice asking if it was him.

"M. President! Sir! Yes, you are talking to the head of operations in Halkegenia!"he said quickly, "What is happening sir?"

"I have heard that you have done a little investigation on Lady Vallière and M. Hiraga. Do you mind telling us why you suppressed reports on a possible WMD?" The Commander-in-Chief asked. "And why you questioned two high ranking members of a friendly government? Our allies are pissed off."

Devers exhaled through his nose. He'd gotten the message too about a Void Mage saving the day and he'd known just from the description who it was.

"Yes sir." He confirmed. And so the CIA agent had to spend the next half hour explaining everything. Colonel Hamilton had left to handle other matters. Back on Earth, the call was on speaker so the Canadian leadership could listen in.

There was immediate interest in the runes that sparked the intelligence service's initial curiosity before the Void revelation derailed it. "It was not our original intention, sir." He explained. "There were concerns that boy could pose a threat. If I may, I think it's safe to say both of them pose a hazard now." Ultimately, they hadn't decided to send this further up the chain because there wasn't any evidence to confirm it yet and the stir it would cause, especially if it was false, would hurt their efforts and relations in the region. False or irrelevant information was commonplace, and it their job to sort it from what was important. Devers made sure to convey that. It had been Harper and his' call, and it had been the wrong one. That happened in this business sometimes.

The mood on the political side was more subdued now. The intelligence services' motives were clearer now, but it didn't make the situation any less of a clusterfuck.

"And I thought they were just some annoying tagalongs all those months ago." Trump remarked to no one in particular. Those kids had sat at the same table as two heads of state, and apparently they could've killed them in an instant too.

"The Ambassadors mentioned something about her family being a cadet branch to the throne. You know anything about that?" Trump asked next. The agent had certainly not picked that up.

"I'm afraid we did not know that," Devers said as he realized the implications. No doubt that it was a family secret between the ruling house and the Vallières; there were some things you just couldn't pick up. That was something that made the clusterfuck even worst.

"Well, we'll have to smooth that over with her Majesty," Trump continued, "If you're our best man over there, then get something together to tell us exactly how much of a problem these two kids are going to be to us." To him at least, this didn't seem like a deliberate snub. Seemed perfectly justified, even.

"Of course, M. President." Devers answered, wondering if he'd escaped an ass chewing from the highest power. There was still Langley, and he had no idea what Harper was going to face, but they both had cleared from the very top. The was mercifully cut loose after that.

And despite that shake up of a conversation, he still appeared cool and collected only 10 minutes later to discuss with their new prisoner about Albion

* * *

The call to Halkegenia disconnected, the two heads of state resumed their talks. This information, which would later be corroborated by Agent Harper, pointed to not only a security situation, but a disturbing future for North American-Halkagenian relations beyond this war. Religious fervor besides Cromwell's would have to be taken into account.

What they knew about Romalia and the Church was limited but reminded them ominously of the Catholic Church in its most powerful hours. Not that they feared direct power; Earth had just proven its might against one of the most touted militaries in that world. But this was an institution that had the power to potentially turn the population against them. They had to tread very carefully in the times to come.

Cleaning up this invasion and securing peace with Albion was still the #1 goal in that world right now, but secondary preparations were quietly set underway for this anticipated meeting.

* * *

The midday sun shone brightly in the skies above Tristainia the next day. Its warmth was one that was welcomed by those who labored in the city. The new day, the first without any fighting, already seemed far more pleasant then that one before. Troops and civilians were working hard as they could to clear out debris in the secured portions. Convoys arrived regularly with supplies and personnel of all kind. Canada had sent its elite 200-men strong Disaster Assistance Response Team to help with the efforts under Operation Tranquility. Special efforts were being made to remove bodies as no one wanted an epidemic to grip the city in the weeks or months to come.

Searches throughout the evening and night had rounded up nearly all of Albion's remaining soldiers in the city and 85% of the city was in their hands. Most had surrendered, only a few had fought, and many had been caught trying to sneak back out through the walls. 45,000 men had attacked this city by the prisoners' own accounts. 2/3rds of them were dead, most killed in the last frantic stages of the battle. Just over 2,000 were able-bodied prisoners. The other thousands were wounded prisoners, clogging up hospitals on the outskirts of Tristania and near its center.

Many efforts had been done to integrate the Tristainian troops into the relief efforts; the higher ups wanting to make sure that the locals could see that their leaders cared. They did not want a governmental collapse or an uprising because of this war.

In a part of these efforts, a teenage blond boy was taking a break from clearing debris. Guiche wiped the sweat off his brow as he sat on debris. He and other men from his family's army were working with American soldiers from the 10th Mountain.

Guiche looked around as he drank from a water canteen that had been lent to him before giving some to Verdandi, the mole-like familiar peering out of the ground near him. Despite all the lives he taken to avenge his mother, he felt hollow. He wondered how would he go back to his normal life. His brush with death haunted him. The past night he awoke in a cold sweat, still seeing the sword that had almost claimed his life.

Guilt also haunted him. How many of his men could have lived had he made better decisions? They haunted his sleep as well. Most of his original unit had died fighting under his orders.

"Hey? You ok there son?"

It snapped Guiche out of his reverie.

"Yes, I am merely resting Lieutenant Trombley," he answered, "The battle was demanding on my magic and my body."

The answer seemed to satisfy the American.

"Alright, don't forget to tell your men that we gonna have lunch soon ok?"

Guiche nodded before quickly passing the word to his men. Once it was lunch, the group of American and Tristainian soldiers made their way to the nearest field canteen. They could see other groups returning to work or working as they walked. As they arrived, Guiche heard a voice call out to him.

"Hey Guiche!" Malicorne shouted as he made his way over, a half-eaten sandwich in his hands, "How are you doing?"

"I am fine Malicorne," he said neutrally, "And you my friend?"

The boy nodded as he stuffed another bite in his mouth.

"I'm fine," he said as he swallowed his food, "Feels good to be on a break."

The two friends had found each other during the past day as the Tristainians tallied their remaining forces. Malicorne had survived just as Guiche had, although facing far less bloodshed. They enjoyed each other's company before they overheard a conversation between American soldiers.

"No way, that ship was really called _Lexington_?" one said in disbelief. He was a short, dark skinned man.

"Yeah, I heard from some of the Frenchies when I was having lunch with yesterday," Lieutenant Trombley said as he puffed on his cigarette, "Told me that they were the ones that guarded the read end of it and they saw the name painted it on it."

"Any idea why they called it the _Lexington_?"

"Nah fam, no idea."

Guiche cleared his throat, their discussion being intriguing.

"Excuse me but why is that ship's name important to you?"

Both men looked at each other before Trombley answered.

"Well you see, the first battle that led to our country being born was at a place named Lexington. It was where the first shot was fired. It was also one of our first victories so it's important to our history," the American explained before his friend picked up the explanation.

"We also named a few of our greatest warships after that battle. Shame those assholes did the same."

Guiche was left speechless at the strange coincidence.

"Anyhow… what's your name?" Trombley asked casually as he looked at Malicorne, "Haven't met you before."

A quick series of introduction was made as the other American was a Lieutenant called Ronald Wyatt.

"So how old are you guy anyways?" Wyatt asked in curiosity.

"Me and Malicorne are both 16 years old," Guiche answered, causing Wyatt to raise an eyebrow.

"You're joking right?" the American was surprised. He knew that the Tristainians had it bad but sending out kids?

"No, we do not jest," Malicorne stammered out, "We are both 16 years old. Our fathers are leaders of two of Tristain's armies and so they gave us each a unit to command."

"Is it not common in your world?" Guiche asked curiously.

"Not at all," Wyatt answered bluntly, "At your age, I was worried if a girl would go to prom with me. Not leading troops around in a war."

"Prom?"

The Tristainians never heard such a term.

"A dance to celebrate the fact that you finished school," Trombley explained, "Every guy would try and invite the girl he liked to dance with him."

Guiche's mind couldn't help but wander to Montmorency. Had she left the Academy for home or had she stayed there? He'd left before he could find out. He hoped that she had stayed safe. An innocent lady like her should not have been exposed to the horrors of war, the domain of men.

"You ok there milord?" Trombley asked, "You kind of zoned out there."

The teen nodded.

"Yes, I was merely thinking about something."

"A girl?" Wyatt asked curiously, stunning Guiche who looked at him in surprise. "You got that same face that my guys do when they think about theirs."

"Oh?" He hadn't expected that he was that easy to read.

"Got a girl Malicorne?" Trombley asked, glancing at the other boy who blushed in embarrassment.

"O-oh not really," he muttered, "Guiche is better with girls than me. He's courting one right now, we-well before all this happened."

Guiche couldn't tell if Montmorency was his lover, given how rocky their relationship was. She did comfort him was his mother was struck down but he wondered if she still felt something for him after his little dates with other girls. Not to mention the love potion incident.

"That so? What's her name?"

"Her name is Montmorency Margarita La Fère de Montmorency the Fragrance," he finally said after a few moments, "She is a fair maiden that studies at the Academy with me."

"What she like?" Wyatt asked before Guiche described her. In turn, the Americans described their girlfriends. No matter the world, it seemed that some things, such as love, never changed in the lifes of fighting men.

They were soon out of time and returned to their arduous task.

* * *

Over the next five days, Tristain would recover faster than it had ever anticipated. Shelters were set up within the Capital and rebuilding started faster than any would've imagined. The bands of Albion troops that haunted the countryside were ruthlessly hunted down by outworlder airships. Tarbes was finally liberated by Canadian mechanized forces, who discovered part of the village's civilian population hiding in the nearby woods. However, the town was gone, burned out buildings the only proof that it was once a vibrant place. What reconnaissance had witnessed a few days ago was confirmed. A mass grave, reminiscent of those in the Balkans in the 1990's, had been found while the burned out church had been filled with bodies as well. Many of the survivors wept openly as they saw what calamity had fallen on their home while the Canadians had trouble keeping their eyes dry as they helped as best they could.

The ring was also returned over that five days. After a few rounds of questioning and discussion which the Queen and other officials, it was agreed it was in the country's best interests to return the magical item. Security issues were heavily discussed, as such a potent relic could not fall into the wrong hands once more. But ultimately they decided a Water Spirit was both someone who's abilities to trust and not to upset. It was shutting out another debate over a potential super weapon, but this was removing it from the equation. There was too much to deal with and one less problem was good for everyone, although the intelligence agencies made a note to return to the subject of the ring and the Water Spirit later.

A flight was secretly arranged to Lagdorian Lake on the country's southern border. Saito, Louise, Kirche, Tabitha, and Montmorency were among the small party. Colbert attended as well as a magical authority. In full view of a security detail including Agent Devers, Saito returned the Ring of Andvari to the Water Spirit as he'd promised. It was a surprisingly simple affair for the magnitude behind what had set it up. The spirit merely appeared, took the ring and bid them (although specifically referring to Saito as 'Gandalfr') farewell before disappearing into the murky waters.

On the same southern border, Gallia's troops and lords with border holdings were stunned by the appearance as massive metal wagons on the Tristainian side that seemed to congregate opposite of Gallia's own troop movements. The northern shore of Lagdorian Lake soon became accustomed to the sight of Bradley IFVs and Abrams tanks, although few of the locals or even the troops themselves understood why.

Four days after the Battle of Tristainia, a Germanian envoy arrived to give the Emperor's congratulations on their 'glorious triumph over the heretical legions of Albion.' It was something that many nobles viewed as little more than insincere politeness. Many quietly believed that the young Germanian Emperor was fuming that he could not have taken over Tristain once his armies had crushed Cromwell's.

News of the defeat was suppressed in Albion, so no one was reacting yet. They were all going about their lives, waiting in anticipation for the day the Lord-Protector would return to proudly proclaim their dominance over Tristain and the beginning of the unification of the Blessed Realms on the continent. It had been nearly a week that he had left, so anticipation was at its highest. It would be only a few hours, maybe another day or so that the Lord-Protector would return with news of victory.

But they got instead was something terrifying and beyond their comprehension.

No one in the port cities understood why one morning thick plumes of yellow smoke began to rise from the nearby docks. They gathered in crowds to look at the strange sight and watch the town guards converging towards them. The town guards had not realized that some of their number had gone missing during the night.

And then they witnessed massive explosions burst seemingly from those same yellow plumes. The explosions shattered the docks and what few warships remained in Albion were destroyed in one savage blow. Fires raged uncontrollably as the powerful magic lit the wooden buildings with ease. Secondary detonations could be heard as powder stores were set ablaze. Most were too afraid to go put out the flames. Many fled the towns expecting the same thing to happen to their homes.

Even the educated and the nobility had no idea what had just happened. Those who weren't baffled were afraid they'd wrought some sort of divine punishment.

The truth was much more mundane: US F-16s and Canadian CF-18s making bombing runs. With the total might of the 2nd Canadian Division and two American brigades through the portal, the jets had finally gotten wheeled through and taken to the airstrip. At Clément-sur-Mer, Henrietta and many of the high-ranking nobles present during the capital battles had been invited to watch their allies avenge the people of Tristain.

The grainier camera feed on the jets seemed to them a step below the other technology they'd seen from their allies, but they could still discern what it showed: Over half of Albion's ports being destroyed by almost righteous fire. It was an unnerving fact to the Tristainians that they were allied with such powers. How could they get they negotiate anything favorable at the victors' table when Albion would be finally defeated?

"Awesome." Saito breathed with a grin. Louise and him were part of the group, now undebatable members of Henrietta's entourage no matter what the people from Earth thought.

"Our leaders wanted to make it very clear to you that Albion won't be allowed to strike again." Colonel Hamilton stated clearly, "We've destroyed any ability they have to reach your lands. You'll be at peace for the foreseeable future."

"Thank you Colonel," Henrietta said, "We are grateful for your nations' help."

"Will these...airships be staying at this base?" Du Poitier asked. He'd thought their smaller airships were amazing, but these were something else entirely.

"They'll be stationed here for the foreseeable future, most likely until peace is achieved," the American explained, "They will serve as a deterrent against Albion and will conduct raids as needed."

As needed depended on what the intel guys dug up. They were scrambling all over the country to find out what was going to happen once word got out Cromwell was a prisoner as well as finding out who has in charge now. Either the country would descend into chaos...or it'd renew its anger against Tristain in order to rescue their savior. Laser guided bombs would go wherever needed.

"We understand." Henrietta nodded. "Thank you for showing this to us, Colonel. Keep us informed. We must be returning to Tristania now." There was still work to be done there. She trusted her allies' discretion on this matter.

"Of course, your Majesty, Milords and Milady. Have a safe journey."

* * *

South of Gallia was the Ausonian Peninsula, the domain of the Holy Romalian Empire. An empire of wealthy trading ports, expansive farms, and magnificent architecture. But its capital, the pentagon-like city of Romalia was also the center of the Brimiric fatih, which made Romalia not exactly an empire in the same vein as Germania, or even a country in the same was as the other three Blessed Realms.

Religion was more deeply ingrained in everything here, and the clergy often had as much if not more power than the nobles who held realms. Symbols of the Brimiric faith could be seen everywhere. The pious wore them on their clothes while many buildings had them as ornaments. The churches stood proudly, their white walls and towers shining in the warm sunlight of the Ausonian Peninsula while the clear blue waters of its waterways gave splendour to the great capital.

At its center was the greatest symbol of the Brimiric faith: the Great Cathedral of Romalia. No building in Halkeginia could match its size. It was from this gold and white building that the popes of Romalia guided their faithful and ruled over their faith. It served as the home of Pope Vittorio Serevare, Saint-Aegis the 32nd and the Shield of the Founder. Within its great walls was not only rows upon rows of pews but also private quarters in which the various cardinals attended to daily matters.

It was in one of these quarters that two young men met. One was garbed in elaborate red and white clothes with a purple cape over it. His well kept, long blonde hair was covered by a purple and gold mitre.

"Julio, I have summoned you for a matter of great urgency," Pope Vittorio said gravely to a kneeling man who was dressed in white and blue knightley clothing.

"I am yours to command your Eminence," Julio Chesaré answered.

"We have received word from Tristain that they and their allies from the other world have defeated Cromwell's heresy on the field of battle," the pope explained.

The other world and the portal was discussed in hushed tones amongst the Papacy. The reports, notably from Cardinal Mazarin, and rumours were almost fantastical to say the least. They spoke of kingless lands and people with no magic yet great constructs that could put everything in Halkegenia to shame. Muskets, wagons, and airships of greater construct than any other nation. People with their own religion that was not the Founder's. Many feared that these people would challenge the Brimiric Faith with their own teachings.

That fear had divided the rulers of Romalia. Some wanted to intervene and denounce these potential blasphemers while others, including Pope Vittorio himself, chose to wait and see just what these new entities would do. Nearly a whole year had passed, and all they saw was Tristain flourishing. But now Cromwell's forces were defeated by their hands, an event that asserted much about their presence. The time to watch and listen had ended. Now it was time to act.

"Your Eminence wishes me to establish contact with these people?" Julio asked, his heterochromatic eyes narrowing.

"It is not merely that," the pope explained, "There are rumours that a Void Mage has been responsible for victory."

Julio was shocked as he let out a gasp.

"A Void Mage, your Eminence?"

"Yes. Bring that mage to me with any means possible," the pope ordered, "It will not be your only task however, Julio. We will need to know what kind of people the Tristainians have allied with. You will investigate these people and their ways as well any signs of heresy in Tristain. "

Pope Vittorio's face hardened. He could not risk having a Blessed Realm swayed by other entities than him. But there was also another question that intrigued him.

"There is a chance that these people are from the world where our Founder grants us his gifts. I wish to confirm if this true."

 **Authors' endnote: Hmm things are getting interesting eh? Wait till next chapter! As always… please read and review!**


	17. Chapter 15: What the Future Holds

**Disclaimer: FoZ/ZnT belong to the departed Noboru Yamaguchi and whoever inherited the I.P.. Any real life organisation/person is merely being used in a fictional non-profit way.**

 **Authors note: Here it is… finally. Sorry for the delay, we had a lot to cover in this chapter but we hope you'll enjoy reading this.**

 **Why were CF-18's and F-16's deployed? Simple, the RCAF only has CF-18's while USAF F-16's are fairly old planes that are more than adequate for the task.**

 **While some parallels can be made between the Catholic faith and the Brimiric Faith… they are not the same. As such, it's not really Protestants helping Catholics against other Protestants. As for the Vatican, it won't really get involved since they don't have any reason to given that it's another religion that worships a different god in another world. They simply don't have anything to gain.**

 **Please read and review as we always enjoy reading them!**

 **What the Future Holds**

A large crowd was gathered in front of the burnt out remains of Londinium's Republican Palace. A great platform had been erected on which many of the key nobles that had not left during the invasion stood. In front of them, stood a pale woman with purple hair and a dark, scandalously cut dress: Sheffield.

"Faithful people of Albion!" she addressed the crowd, her voice amplified by magic, "I have ill news for you! Our enemies, through blasphemous pacts, have consorted with ruthless powers that know not of the True Faith to defeat us in Tristain."

Murmurs began spreading through the crowds. The tales of mysterious explosions destroying entire harbors and ships from the heavens in the southern part of the country had reached Londinium. Had the Tristainians summoned demons of some kind?

"When I last I saw our most Holy Lord-Protector, he had ordered me to return to the White Country to summon more pious servants and guide it until his triumphant return. Alas, he was defeated by our treacherous enemies and their faithless allies! They now mock us by holding him and our brave warriors as prisoners and as vulgar trophies to their short-lived victory!"

Shouts of indignation could be heard across the crowds, people screaming for blood and vengeance.

"Death upon the Tristainians!" some shouted, "Burn the heretics!"

Sheffield raised her hand to demand silence.

"I heard your calls for vengeance and retribution. I see the fire that burns in your hearts that demands justice for this affront. Let us, in the name of Brimir and the Holy Founder, dedicate all of our efforts in defeating Tristain and her allies! Let us do all that is needed to save our Lord-Protector!"

The crowd cheered once more, professing their faith in Brimir while the gathered nobles applauded politely behind Sheffield. Most of them didn't appeared to have the same fervor as the common people.

What Sheffield didn't realize was her speech had an additional audience. Part of it was in the crowd itself, hidden under cloaks but watching intently. The rest was watching from within Londinium through binoculars. They'd be watching through a sniper scope too, but the damn thing had busted three nights ago and replacement parts were hard to come by here.

The intelligence force on the ground in Albion itself numbered about two dozen operatives combined from the US and Canada and included members from the CIA's secretive Special Activities Division. These men were paramilitary and recruited from Special Forces units.

This speech was being recorded and would be sent back ASAP. The woman giving it wasn't unfamiliar to anyone in the intelligence scene, just irrelevant; they knew she was Cromwell's secretary. But she hadn't been seen being so proactive before. By the looks of the nobility behind her, it wasn't just Earth surprised with the change.

Either way, all the people on that stage represented a possible resuming of hostilities. And the woman was particularly sought after for her closeness to Cromwell. The old man's injuries had seen him fall into sickness. Earth medicine wasn't going to let him die, but you couldn't try in court or, more importantly, question a comatose man.

Word was sent back, and by the end of the day a course of action was being debated by the higher authorities in each country. There was an unofficial ceasefire ongoing and by all accounts they had Albion's population scared and unwilling. No one wanted that to change. Right now, what everyone was hoping for was that Albion would come to the table. And if radical elements filled in the power vacuum, that wouldn't happen. Both sides mutually agreed they needed to keep that from happening.

The kill and capture orders went out. The following night, Special Forces teams were in Albion. SEALs would be the one capturing Sheffield from the government building she'd been tracked to with only a light guard. JTF-2 and the intelligence operatives were working to mark the manors where the nobles that had been on the stage lived. Extraction helicopters and even backup extraction helicopters hovered a few miles outside the city. A timetable was already set up: The secretary and the SF would be on a Chinook over the ocean and the intelligence agents melted into the countryside by the time the airstrikes came in.

This wasn't shock and awe; the team intended to enter quietly and subdue the target while she was sleeping.

Guards silently fell without knowing what had hit them as the team moved in the shadows of the small building. The men darted through the well-furnished hallways and stairs in search of their quarry, their light steps making barely any sounds.

Finally, they reached their target. A bedroom.

The men moved into position before the door, weapons they breached.

"HANDS IN THE AIR!" the point man shouted as he entered the small room. Much to his surprise, rather than a sleeping woman, the target was well awake and surrounded by a magical purple light that rapidly engulfed her body.

"Fools!" Sheffield cackled mockingly as the light swallowed her and disappeared before a shot could be fired. The magical light dissipated, and the room was suddenly empty. Their target was gone. The entire team entered the room and fanned out, by they were alone.

"Bitch," the team leader cursed before contacting his superiors. "Command, Red Leader. Capture mission has failed. The target teleported away."

"Teleported?" They'd made extensive study of magic in their time here, but teleportation wasn't something that had ever come up.

"Yes, target disappeared in a flash of purple light. We'll do a quick search before exfiltration."

"Understood, over."

The search was fruitless, Sheffield having left no valuable documents inside her bedroom. The team evacuated as the sound of explosions echoed throughout Londinium. As the shocked denizens ran outside, they saw thick plumes of smoke rising and raging fires that lit up the city while the special forces team faded into the shadows. The terrified town guard soon realized that whatever had caused those explosions had only targeted one thing: noble dwellings, those used by those Cromwell had placed directly below him in the new government. A single thought ran through their minds.

How had they angered the Founder to deserve such holy retribution?

And back in Tristain and on Earth, meetings were already being help on this newly observed magical feat.

* * *

There was something that was inevitable from the moment the revelation of Louise's true magical affinity was revealed: she'd have to sit down and have a talk with her parents. Éléonore was there too. How the little mage wished that Cattleya was here! The kind but sickly second daughter of the Vallières was always a reassuring presence for Louise.

She looked nervously at her parents who sat across her, both with severe expressions while Éléonore leaned against a nearby wall, her arms crossed. Louise had no idea how this conversation would go. Her parents had always criticized her for her apparent lack of magical affinity.

"Louise," her father started gravely. The mage looked at her father whose gaze was inscrutable as he and her mother looked at her, "How long have you known about this?"

"O-only since Professor Colbert mentioned it." She mumbled. "A little while before the Queen was coronated.

"Why did you not tell us of this?" Karin asked neutrally, "Why did you hide such a serious matter from us?" It could've been so easy to blame the spies, but Louise knew that was barely part of the real reason: she didn't believe it herself.

"Because-because I couldn't believe it and didn't want to disappoint anymore you," she said quietly as she held her head down, "What if it wasn't true?"

The room fell silent at her confession. It was a few moments before anyone finally spoke up.

"Looking back, it makes sense." Her mother held a hand to her head. "You were never capable of casting anything related to the four elements."

Her father and sister slowly nodded as they digested the information. After the four elements were disproven, there was only one possibility left even if it was rare. They'd criticized her on it for so long, and now they were the ones who looked foolish, as much as they resented having to admit it.

"Hmph." That little noise came from Éléonore. "Louise is still a naive little child. Do you really think that she can control such powers?"

"Be quiet." The duchess silenced her oldest. "Louise, you don't remember actually casting the spell that won the battle?"

"N-no." Her mother closed her eyes but her face remained unexpressive.

"So we are still at the same place." Her sister stated. Louise couldn't control her magic.

"That is the case but Void Magic is all but lost to us Eleonore," the Duchess pointed out, "Controlling your powers will require great effort, Louise."

"Y-yes Mother."

"There is also a more pressing matter concerning your station: As of know, you are not just a daughter of the House of Vallière but now an important figure for the people of Tristain. The Founder's gift to you comes with great responsibility that you will have to uphold with dignity, honour and respect," her mother explained, "We shall make sure that you will live up to the expectations that come with such a station."

"Y-yes Mother," Louise said with nervosity in her voice, not daring to face her mother.

"You will face me when you talk and we will work in putting steel into your voice!" Her mother commanded, making Louise jump.

"Yes Mother!" Louise said with more volume and something close to eye contact. It was a start.

"You won't be returning to the academy." Her mother stated. Even if it reopened, she would not learn the things she need to there. "Your new home will be here in the Queen's court." She exchanged a look with her husband, one that translated an unspoken message. "And I will be staying with you."

"What?" Louise went a little pale. "But what about the Valliere's holdings?"

"Your father will manage them. I need to be here to train you to be a proper part of the Queen's court. And to keep watch on you and that boy." Louise blushed.

"You have been blessed by the Founder. Our family has been blessed." Her father stated sternly. "Do not sully his gift, Louise."

"Yes father." Louise bowed her head in respect. If she'd got the courage to look away for just a moment, she would've seen her older sister's face turning a plum color of angry as honor and importance was thrown on her shoulders.

"You will go with your father too, Éléonore." Their mother declared, and she looked like she was going to protest before being fixed with a hard glare. "You are a member of our family and have just as much responsibility in maintaining our holdings. Those Germanian upstarts will not see any weakness from us. You _will_ assist your father in managing them." Éléonore may have been a bully to Louise, but both were but scared children beneath their mother.

"Of course mother." She conceded, although she tilted her head just enough that only Louise saw her glaring at her.

"I believe we've said all that is needed to be said." Lady Valliere stood up. "You should return home." She told her husband. "Come, Louise." She commanded her daughter to rise. "We will see if the Queen requires any assistance."

Louise got up and followed her without a word.

* * *

There was a very different conversation taking place at the American consulate. Saito and Hayate had both gone so they could find a phone that would reach Earth. They hadn't checked in with home since before the Coronation Attack, and that had been just over a week ago now.

"Mom's going to be mad at us…" Saito realized, shuddering at the thought of facing her wrath. His brother nodded and gulped as they walked in the hallways.

"Let's hope dad managed to calm her a bit."

"Right this way you two," an embassy worker said as he led them to a secured room, "The phone call has been set up."

Entering the room, there was a wooden table with luxurious chairs around them. On the table, there was a phone and a pitcher of water waiting for the two brothers.

"Thank you and please tell Ambassador Fitzgerald thank you from us," Hayate said to the worker as they sat down.

"You're welcome and I shall tell him that."

After a quick setup, the employee left while the brothers waited for someone at home to pick up the phone, their conference call having been arranged so they could reach home at a reasonable time.

"Hello?" a male finally said as the ringing stopped, "This is Hiraga Ichika."

"Euh… hey Dad!" Saito said nervously, "How's it-"

"I saw everything on TV!" his father exclaimed over the phone, "I'm not sure if I should be happy that you did something to help save the day or angry that you got caught in this whole messy war! Is Hayate with you?!"

"Yeah dad, we're both fine right now," Hayate answered, "I wasn't involved in any fighting so don't worry about me."

"Where were you both?" He asked. "The news said the city over there was invaded… and what do you mean that you weren't involved in any fighting?"

"We were both safe in the city. The Queen had us inside the Palace while the battle was going on. I was treating injured people while everything was happening."

Ichika didn't seem satisfied with that answer.

"And what about you Saito?" he asked pointedly, "I saw what you did on TV. I think your uncle would have been really proud of what you did. But-"

Saito and Hayate heard a feminine familiar voice in the background, followed by their father answering it. The rapid sound of footsteps could suddenly be heard.

"Saito, Hayate! Thank the heavens you're both alive!" Their mother almost shouted into the phone. She was crying tears of happiness and anger.

"Mom, we're both fine as well," Saito answered, trying to calm her down, "We're ok now."

"Young man… why did you fight during the Coronation attack?" she asked half fearful, half angry, "It was not your job. You didn't have to that."

The youngest Hiraga was silent for a moment. He just didn't know what to say to his mother.

"Why won't you come home?" she pleaded, "Y-you could be safe here, both of you."

Both brothers held back sighs. Saito knew he couldn't come back even if he wanted to while Hayate was here because of his research team.

"Mom, you know that I'm still under my professor's orders and he's still here," Hayate explained calmly, "Unless if he wants to go back, I can't."

Their mother sobbed some more.

"There's nothing I can do without risking my career," he sighed.

"B-But Saito, you don't have any reason to stay don't you?" She was desperate as she waited for her youngest's answer.

"I can't come back… and you know it," he said sadly, "I have friends here I don't want to leave and I want to stay with Louise. Even if I didn't have them, I'm still officially missing according to the government."

Their mother sobbed even more. As much as she had wanted to argue, they were both right… and legally adults in Japan.

"Look mom, I think we're gonna be fine." Saito argued as best as he could, "I mean the war's already over and there's no way anyone over here would think of starting another one. We're gonna stay safe while helping out as much as we can."

"You both know I won't stop worrying." Nasu replied tearfully.

"We'll do our best to stay safe ok?" Hayate pressed on, "I'll be in a hospital and Saito'll be at a school with his girlfriend."

Their mother sighed.

"There's nothing I can do to get you to come back," she realized, her heart heavy with sorrow, "Please… both of you stay safe."

"We will," both brothers said in unison.

"Bye... and we love you both," their mother said sadly before the call ended. The two young adults stood there.

"Hayate?" Saito spoke hesitantly.

"Yeah, little brother?"

"I really feel bad about having to do that." There was regret in his voice.

"Same here," Hayate sighed, "But that's part of being a grown up Saito. We have hard choices to make and I had to do the same when I left for my studies. Just that mom and dad know where you are is enough for them. Trust me."

"I guess so… but I still don't like it."

"Neither do I, but it's what we have to do." He patted him on the shoulder. "Come on. We still got work to do."

* * *

Halkegenia HQ had been a stopgap measure to address an immediate crisis. But now that that crisis was mostly over, it was time to start carrying out the politicians' will: making a permanent fixture in the region. The resources were there, they just had to find them a place to stay. As pleasant and convenient as it was logistically, the Academy was ruled out by virtue of the facts the Tristainians would very much like it to reopen and having such a sensitive installation near a area where international populations were heavy was counterproductive not to mention unsafe.

Clément-sur-Mer was ruled out for being right on the border and because it was already built as a monitoring and interdiction point.

There was one place that could work: Tristainia itself. Its central location and the Queen's proximity made it a good choice. Most of it and the personnel had already been flown in, and the transfer was going to be complete fairly soon.

But one thing was staying at the Academy: the makeshift prison camp. And it wasn't just staying- it was expanding. Both parties had agreed to make it the single POW camp in the country. A long file of weary, battered men were walking out of the capital under heavy guard. They were the survivors of the failed assault on the capital. It had been strange times for them. Despite being prisoners, they were surprisingly well fed and treated by the otherworldly soldiers. As they were being led, the Albion prisoners saw another group of Earth soldiers, with different uniforms. The newcomers took position and began issuing orders to them. What stood out was their accent when they spoke Albionian… it was unnervingly similar to the ones in Albion itself.

The column was led to trucks where they were loaded on before being carried away. Little did they know that their British guards were just as surprised at the accent similarities as they were.

Meanwhile, within the walls of Tristainia, another heavily guarded convoy was moving, this time towards the Royal Palace.

The convoy came to a halt before their passengers disembarked. It was the commanders of the North American Forces in Halkeginia. Agnes was there to greet them.

"General Carignan?" she asked before a blonde woman with short hair walked to her. Her sharp gaze showed her experience.

"That would be me," she nodded, "You must be Chevalier de Milan, leader of her Majesty Corps?"

"Indeed, I am."

The group was led through the Palace's grand hallways. It was still evident that it had been used recently as a shelter as there were still injured recovering inside the building. Agnes led them to the war room where voices could be heard discussing.

"Your Majesty, I present to you General Jennie Carignan of the Canadian Army and Colonel James Coleman of the United States Army."

"Welcome to Tristainia," Henrietta greeted before introducing the North Americans to her senior commanders.

Unlike their Tristainian counterparts who had donned their ballroom clothes, General Carignan and Colonel Coleman were dressed in combat uniforms and body armour.

"It is a pleasure to meet you all," the Canadian officer said as she looked at the gathered nobles, "I am very impressed by the courage and tenacity that you have displayed in the defense of the capital."

"Thank you General Carignan," Henrietta said, "My commanders and I were looking forward to discuss with you of our current military situation and efforts."

"My leaders have ordered to do so."

They gathered over a rudimentary map of Tristain with various flags placed on them.

"As you can see, most of our armies are gathered in the capital or in the nearby regions," du Poitier explained, "Many nobles have left their holdings to come here on her Majesty's orders. The lands between here and the coast were abandoned in order to defend the capital."

"I have no doubt that Albion deserters are still pillaging the countryside," Carignan said, "My forces are still organizing search and destroy missions to find them."

"We are very appreciative as many of our armies have suffered casualties and will require time to rebuild," Henrietta replied, "I cannot allow my people to suffer."

"Speaking of casualties, have you been able to get a final count yet?" Colonel Coleman asked.

Du Poitier looked grimly at a pile of reports as he answered.

"We are still counting, but our numbers are easily in the thousands. Wounded, dead... and many lords are dead. It will take at least a year to rebuild the armies. That is if the treasuries would be able to sustain such an effort."

"Our borders with Germania and Gallia are gravely undermanned," Marshall Grammont stated, "Many of our border forts and outposts can only be manned by skeleton garrisons at the moment."

Carignan crossed her arms, her face deep in thought. This was a serious situation as Tristain was vulnerable from foreign attacks… and by extension, North America. Yet it presented opportunities that the veteran leaders could propose to their superiors.

"Thank you for the reports," she finally said, "My leaders on Earth will be highly appreciative of them."

"What course of action would they have?" Henrietta asked.

"Presently, I am unable to answer that given that you will be meeting our leaders. I am certain that they will discuss that with you, your Majesty." Carignan answered, "But with these reports, they will be able to cooperate with you on such a matter.

"What of the territory that your armies have secured?" Du Poitier asked, "How will they be administered?"

"More importantly, will your forces be living off the lands?" Duke Valliere hastily added. Despite what he had heard from the Earth leaders, he still had his doubts.

"Our forces will be supplied and they will not demand anything from the Tristainian people," Carignan assured, "They'll maintain the local order and distribute aid as necessary until a time you can re-establish your authority."

"Your Highness." Delage quickly whispered in Henrietta's ear. "A great many lords and their families have died...their lands will have to return to the Crown's direct authority." More for Henrietta's plate.

"Than I task you to restore royal authority upon these land in my name, First Minister Delage." she ordered, considering how it would grow her own power despite how distasteful it was in her mind to profit from the deaths of others.

"Once you have restored your authority, we will leave those lands at your convenience." Carignan concluded, "Should you wish for our forces to remain, you can ask our leaders if you want."

"Thank you General Carignan. Is there any matters that require my presence," Henrietta asked.

"Not with you, your Majesty; you can return to your other duties. We would like to discuss with your commanders deeper aspects of our cooperation."

"Very well." Henrietta nodded. "General Du Poitier, keep me informed."

"Of course Queen Henrietta."

* * *

At the Earth camps surrounding the capital, today was an unusual sight for the Tristainians who were looking at them. Over the past few days, decorations had appeared inside the camps. They were crude and rudimentary, but some were actually genuine; one Canadian soldier had somehow gotten an inflatable Christmas tree sent in a care package, something the Tristainians marveled at.

It had been nearly two weeks since the great battles against Albion. Since then, the troops were engaged in reconstruction efforts, humanitarian aid and mopping up the remaining, scattered enemy bands in the countryside. The patrols were monotonous though a few firefights did erupt, usually largely one-sided with the allied forces winning everyone of them. The Albionian stragglers did get lucky a few times, injuring half a dozen men mildly but nothing severe. As for reconstruction and humanitarian efforts, it was hard work that was well rewarded for both Earth and Tristainian soldiers. The expressions of gratitude made it all worthwhile despite occasional bitching by the men.

Some things never changed.

But today, was a calm day for many soldiers. It was Christmas. Lieutenant Huynh was walking through one of the camps, happily whistling Christmas songs. He could occasionally see off-duty soldiers wandering around with Santa caps. It was kind of absurd given that it was either spring or early summer in this world while winter had begun early back home.

Not that he'd complain. He cursed the bitter winters of Canada every year and this was a welcome change from the yearly routine.

A crowd of American and Canadian soldiers were gathered around a TV, happily watching a movie as Huynh made his way over. Someone had hooked everything needed to a nearby generator. Someone even put a sign saying 'Cinema'.

"Excuse me but what's playing?" he asked one of his fellow Canadians.

"Oh euh Black Hawk Down sir."

"Classic," he grinned as he found himself a spot to watch, "Just like back home." Looks like the Army's Christmas tradition lived on even here.

He enjoyed watching the movie and its well made scenes.

' _Thank god the locals don't have AK's!'_ he mused darkly as he watched the Somalis fight the American troops. He suddenly heard an insistent voice.

"Come on guys!" Saito said excitedly as he dragged Louise with him, followed by Guiche, Malicorne, Kirche and Tabitha, "I think they're watching a movie over here!"

"I hope it's not something perverted!" the pinkette shot back.

"I don't think they'd watch porn like that," Saito replied defensively, "I'm gonna ask what movie is it."

"Porn?" Malicorne asked curiously as Saito reddened, not wanting to explain what that meant.

"Is it those plays you told me about Saito?" Guiche asked as they walked, allowing a quick respite.

"Yeah!" Saito than looked at one of the soldiers there and asked what movie was playing before getting his answer.

"So what exactly is this play going to be about?" Kirche asked as she eyed the good looking troops.

"It's called Black Hawk Down," the boy explained, "It's about a battle that the American Army fought a long time ago."

"Aren't you kids kind of young to watch this kind of movie though?" the same soldier asked as he looked at them skeptically. The novelty of kids wandering into the camps had long since worn off, especially since they were technically allied officers in certain cases. At least rank courtesy wasn't necessary because of the nonexistence of certain ranks and the fact that some were pressed into leadership roles because of family obligations.

"Oh I already watched Black Hawk Down back home," Saito answered, "And we're all old enough anyways."

"Alright grab a seat kid."

It was… confusing for the Halkeginians to say the least. They had many questions about the battle and war depicted by the movie. Why were the Americans in such a strange, sand filled land? What was the UN? What was this war about?

A few patient soldiers and Saito did their best to explain the movie's context while trying to enjoy it at the same time. Eventually, they merely told the group to simply remember any questions they had and asked them at the end.

It amazed them at how life-like the movie was. Kirche was enjoying the sight of the handsome actors playing the various characters while Guiche and Malicorne looked impressed at the tough brave men ending into battle. Saito was having a blast, enjoying one of the things he missed most from Earth while Louise joined in the fun. Tabitha looked on, her usual indifference showing. However, a disturbing thought began to emerge in the minds of the Halkeginians: a very realistic retelling of a brutal battle was as mere entertainment… enjoyed by anyone on Earth!

At some point, Guiche began to space out and his breathing began to become ragged as he watched the merciless firefights rage between the Americans and the Somalis and the brutal, messy results. Sweat formed on his brow as his heart suddenly began beating faster.

"Hey, you ok there man?!" one of the soldiers waved his hand in front of Guiche's face, trying to catch his attention. The rest of the soldiers started looking in the young noble's direction too, all getting the same idea.

"Guiche?!" Saito exclaimed frantically, "What's going on?"

"Get him to a medic!" one of the soldiers shouted as some of the others got up from their seats.

"Don't worry buddy," another said reassuringly as he and a pair of Americans guided Guiche away, "You're gonna be alright ok?"

Saito tried to reach Guiche through the mass of men.

"H-hey what's happ-"

The teen was shoved out of the way by an annoyed Canadian soldier.

"Get out of the fucking way tabarnak! We're trying to get him some help!" They all seemed to know what they were doing, but it still left the Halkagenians who'd witnessed it confused.

"That kid's been mind fucked." One of the soldiers who'd stayed behind remarked. And they went back to watching their movie like nothing had happened, leaving their foreign guests even more stunned.

* * *

While the miniature Christmas celebrations happened in the city, a few patrols spotted something coming in from the South: A lone rider on a white dragon. They'd seen them before- it was the local's way of running a messaging system- so they didn't immediately react. But they _did_ have a problem when it started flying directly over the camps outside the city. They just figured he was an over-curious rider still not over the novelty of the Earth forces.

Julio studied the strange camps that had appeared around Tristainia. Green tents and strange, horseless wagons dotted the land while musketeers patrolled them. Others seemed to be more relaxed as they walked almost casually. It added to the further strange rumours of massive armoured wagons and nimble airships he had heard when he was in Gallian inns near the border with Tristain. Yet… these newcomers did not appear hostile to his presence.

Only one place would have the answers to the Pope's question and so Julio Chesaré flew towards the Royal Palace of Tristainia. He glanced at the broken city below, seeing more tents as well as lines of people getting food from the horseless carts. People were also busy rebuilding and cleaning up the streets.

The Palace stood out, its majestic outline marred by a few scars from the recent battle. Julio landed in front of the main gate as a crowd began to gather around him, recognizing his clothing. A group of women in green armour approached him.

"Greetings, I am Julio Chesaré, Emissary to His Eminence, Pope Vittorio Serevare, Saint-Aegis the 32nd, Shield of the Founder." he introduced himself to Agnes and the musketeers who kneeled before him, "I am here on His Eminence's behalf as he has requested that I speak with her Majesty, Queen Henrietta of Tristain."

The gathered crowd began to murmur, quite loudly. The Musketeers were immediately humbled before the emissary, if not for their belief in Brimir than the powerful institution he represented.

"Emissary, I am Chevalier Agnes de Milan, head of her guards. My Musketeers and I shall take you to her," Agnes said formally, "It shall not be long."

"Thank you Chevalier de Milan," the emissary said as he was led into the Palace. He noted the crowds of commoners still taking shelter inside the Palace. It was a warming thing to see, although only because it fell in with his Eminence's own philosophy when it came to commoners. It was a true show of piety. Finally arriving in the throne room, he could see both Cardinal Mazarin and Queen Henrietta waiting for him, the latter sitting on her throne.

"Greetings Emissary Chesaré," Henrietta said reverently as she bowed her head, "I welcome you to the humble court of the Blessed Realm of Water. What does his Eminence wish of us?"

Julio bowed in response.

"His Eminence wishes for me to send his congratulations for your victories against the Albionian heresy," he praised, "He is happy that a Blessed Realm has proven its faith by defeating such an enemy. No doubt that the Founder is pleased with your actions."

"His words are welcomed in the Realm of Water. They are most recomforting in these dire times."

Julio nodded in agreement.

"The Founder shall guard you and Tristain your Majesty," he said warmly before switching to a more serious, "His Eminence also wishes to learn more about the allies that have aided you in this battle. According to what we have heard, they are powerful beyond measure."

Henrietta nodded in agreement.

"Canada and the United States are indeed mighty lands," she answered, "But they are also very generous and fair in their dealings with us."

"I have seen their camps outside the city and they are impressive. How might I reach their lands to talk?"

"They have a system in their world of using 'Ambassadors'- men who stay in other countries with their retinues and convey messages from their leadership at home and work on a daily basis to further relations between the host nation and their homelands. They can aid you." Henrietta explained as she stood up, "Please follow me. I have the means to swiftly set up a meeting with them."

"Yes your Majesty."

She led him to one of her small offices near the throne room where a strange black device sat on the table. The queen picked up the device before pressing a series of buttons. She spoke into the device, asking for a meeting with Ambassador Ambroise before shutting off the device and redoing the same thing, except this time, it was for a man named Fitzgerald.

"Emissary Chesaré, the Ambassadors shall arrive shortly," she said once everything was done, "Would you like refreshments while we await their arrival? No doubt that your travels have been demanding."

"I thank you for your generous offer your Majesty," he said as Henrietta summoned a servant and they sat down with refreshments, some of which Julio didn't recognize.

"I have heard some fantastical tales about your victory here." Julio mentioned after some time passed.

"Yes, the people of Tristain banded together to save our lands from Cromwell's armies," she explained, "Every one of my subjects fought with bravery to defend what we held dear. Here in the capital, there are tales of heroes who gave their lives so that Tristain may endure. The Founder gave us his Strength and Fortitude that allowed us to prevail during these hard times."

"No doubt that your faith will shield your lands from much hardships."

"Yes," she nodded.

"There are also…" Julio paused briefly, "rumours of a miracle that help win your battle."

Henrietta's face remained stoic, but questions were already running through her minds. Did the Papacy already know about Louise's powers?

"Powerful magic not heard of since the legendary times when the Founder still walked these lands."

It confirmed the sense of dread that was building in the pit of her stomach.

"Is this true your Majesty?" Julio pressed on, "That someone blessed by the Founder himself won this battle?"

"Yes it is true," she finally answered, "A Void Mage walks amongst the Tristainian court. It is a blessing from Brimir that shall forever be treasured by myself and Tristain."

"You must take me to him," Julio demanded, "So that I may see this blessing."

Before Henrietta could answer, Agnes entered the room.

"Your Majesty, Emissary," she bowed, "The ambassadors have arrived."

"Very well, please bring them here."

Agnes left the room for a short moment before returning with a group of men that were unlike any Julio had seen before. Two men in very simple but elegant clothes. No doubt these two were the ambassadors. One had almost pitch black skin while the other looked like he could pass as Halkeginian were it not for his clothes. Some of the guards were imposing musketeers, some with well hidden faces, but others were dressed not unlike the men they protected.

"Greeting Ambassadors."

Both men bowed.

"Greetings your Majesty."

"I hope that you are both well."

They nodded before Julio cleared his throat.

"Please allow me to introduce myself," he said pleasantly, "I am Julio Cesaré, Emissary to Pope Vittorio Severare, Saint-Aegis the 32nd and Shield of the Founder."

"I am pleased to meet you Emissary Chesaré. I am Ambassador Thomas Fitzgerald of the United States of America." the American said before being followed by Ambroise.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Emissary Chesaré. I am Ambassador Richard Ambroise of Canada. It is a privilege for both of us to finally meet a representative of Romalia and of Pope Vittorio's court."

Both men spoke

"I am happy to meet you both. It is quite a interesting system that your realms have devised to maintain relations with other kingdoms." Julio commented, "His Eminence has been hearing many tales about your kingdoms and is quite curious about them."

"We can understand his curiosity," Ambroise replied before turning to Henrietta, "Our leaders will be pleased that you have arranged for this meeting so quickly."

The queen smiled.

"We are also quite interested in opening relations with his Eminence," Fitzgerald said.

"His Eminence would be quite open to relations with your lands." Julio replied, "Though would it possible for me to visit the camps you have set up around Tristainia first? I am quite intrigued by them."

"I believe that we would need approval from our armies' commanders," Ambroise stated as he pulled out his cellphone, "Though it should not be too difficult. Please allow me a moment."

After a few moments of talking in Albionian, he hung up.

"I have received authorisation for your visit, Emissary Chesaré. Her Majesty is also invited to join us. She can help bridge the gap between our worlds." he said.

"Thank you for your swiftness," Julio complimented, "Such expediency is impressive Ambassadors."

"We strive for excellence. Our military will arrange for something."

"Wonderful," Julio said, "I am still wondering something. Where are your lands, exactly?"

"Well, no doubt that you have heard about the Portal near the Tristainian Academy." Fitzgerald said plainly, "We are from the other side. Our world is called Earth and our two nations border each other on the continent of North America. Despite the efforts of both sides, we've yet to discover why this portal opened."

"I see." He noted that as important. "Would it possible for me to visit your lands? I am quite fascinated."

"That is something that only our leaders can decide." Ambroise answered as one of his guards signalled for them to leave for the tour. It was the first of many deflections Julio would hear from the men.

* * *

The tour was predictable yet interesting for the Romalian man. The soldiers, despite their strange uniforms and armours were simply musketeers, albeit with very advanced weapons. The work they were doing was not usual. It was construction work and charity work. It was how they were doing it with the Tristainians. The ambassadors described the various machines and their basic operation to Julio. Horseless carriages called trucks ferried materials, supplies and men around while their tools made clearing debris easier.

It was not completely unfamiliar to him. Some of the strange items he saw were eerily similar to those housed in the relic-filled secret vaults under Romalia's greatest cathedral. He mentally noted this fact. Perhaps they were from the worlds were the relics originated from, just as the Pope suspected. He probed the fact.

"Tell me, do your countries build all these yourselves?"

"Yes," Ambassador Fitzgerald answered as they walked on a ruined street near the walls, "The United States is well-known for being an economic juggernaut in our world."

"Canada imports many of its wares from the United States," Ambroise added, "But we are also able to produce large amounts of goods that are being used here."

"Fascinating," Julio replied, his curiosity ever increasing, "I have never seen such constructs." he lied, "Perhaps could we arrange for some of these to be brought to Romalia? Have you traded with these nations for some of these devices your Majesty?"

"No." There was surprising firmness in his guide's voice when they cut in. "We do not sell weapons."

"You do not?"

Ambroise nodded.

"The selling of weaponry and military equipment is extremely regulated on Earth," he explained, "It is almost forbidden and quite difficult to sell them."

"Than have you traded anything with Tristain?"

"Yes, we have been trading many commodities with their businessmen and gained much wealth from it," Henrietta answered, "As well as knowledge. They have sent us many of their agricultural experts to help bolster our crops. In exchange, we have allowed them to study how magic works in order to see if magic can be combined with their science and technology."

That last detail caught Julio's attention. Combining the Founder's gift with another world's means was something that Pope Vittorio needed to know.

"Have these efforts been fruitful?"

"Very. Had it not been for Reconquista's attack, Tristain would have had its best harvest in its history." Henrietta explained sadly, "Much of it has been plundered or destroyed by the invasion."

"That is unfortunate but let us hope that the Founder bring you more bountiful harvests next year." Julio said, "What other goods have you traded?"

"Small commodities," Fitzgerald said, "such as clothes, exotic foods and alcohol to name a few as well as wood for warships."

"Our leaders did not wish to destroy Tristain's economy by introducing too many goods," Ambroise explained as they arrived at the entrance of a military camp.

"You must show me some of these goods your Majesty," Julio asked. Henrietta nodded.

"I have acquired some of them at the Royal Palace. I will show you when we return."

Entering the camp, Julio could see how the Earth soldiers were different from the orders and papal troops that guarded Romalia. Uniforms were standard while the men and women looked well fed and well built. He could see exercising on their off time while others were enjoying each other's company. Some things however stood out like fake green trees, ornamental vine and red caps on the heads of some soldiers.

"Are these part of your armies' camp?" he pointed to some Christmas decorations.

"These are merely temporary," Fitzgerald replied, "They are decoration for a holiday in our world called Christmas that is today."

"What does this holiday consist of?"

"It is a holiday where our people celebrate by reuniting with family and friends around homemade feasts. We also give each other presents as a way of showing appreciation to each other."

So far, no sign of a different faith.

"How did this holiday start?" Julio asked, "Was it a king that started this?"

"No one's quite sure. It goes back centuries before our countries even existed. It's tradition at this point." Ambroise explained politely as they kept walking, "Like Ambassador Fitzgerald said, it's a celebration of family and friendship."

Julio noticed some Earth soldiers sitting in rows while a man spoke before them. They began to pray.

"Excuse me but what are these men doing?" he asked, pointing to the seated men and what seemed to be a priest. At least he assumed; the man was dressed no differently, but his position standing at the front clued him in. After a slight delay, his question was answered.

"They are praying." Fitzgerald explained, deflecting the question and leading him away, "It is customary for some people in our world to pray for good tidings on Christmas day."

"To who do they pray then?"

"Those soldiers in particular? I do not know." The man was lying, but Julio didn't know that. "Religion is very diverse in our lands, and our citizens are free to worship however they please. All the different types live in harmony and will happily celebrate certain holidays together." It was an answer designed to be non-threatening.

"Do you not enforce one faith?"

"No, because our lands are founded by people who settled in from around our world to escape religious persecution. They built on the idea that any person can be free to worship however they please free of interference from either others or the government. They are free to change their faith if they believe it would bring them salvation."

"If people worshipping your Founder Brimir came to our land, they would be allowed to build a church to him and even encourage other people to follow in your faith," Ambroise explained, "My leaders would even grant the means to do so."

Julio turned that all over in his head. By these people's own words, they did not force heresy on others. If they spoke the truth. If anything… the Founder could even gain more devout followers. But he'd have to ask Queen Henrietta in private later. One important question remained.

"Who is it your people worship, exactly?" Julio asked. "We are led to believe it is not the Founder."

"No. Our world was created differently than yours. Something we've strived to do in our time here is understanding how each world is different and how they can co-exist despite their differences."

These men spoke with logic. Nothing in Brimir's teachings said he had power over other worlds.

"Thank you for your answer." Julio finally said, "His Eminence shall be pleased to learn about this. Perhaps it is best I speak to your disaffected now." He said to Henrietta next. "It may warm them to know the Church cares for their plight." The Romalia emissary had learned much so far, but one thing in particular: these people were trying to portray themselves as harmless as possible. And it could either be out an intention to avoid conflict...or stay innocent till they could initiate it.

The Ambassadors left them as Julio and Henreitta went to one of the many refugee camps that had been set up to help all those who'd just been displaced; fire, magic, and falling airships had destroyed great swaths of houses throughout the capital. All of the Tristainian commoners were gathered around the outworlders, waiting to receive food.

"I must say, your Highness," Julio started, "you seem remarkably unconcerned with how reliant your subjects are on these outworlders. Do you not fear usurpation?"

"America and Canada have put themselves at great risk to protect my position as Tristain's ruler." Henrietta shook her head. "They have no intention of ruling these lands."

"Yet it is they who hold control over some of your lands currently, is that correct?" He asked, giving her pause. "They are the ones leading many of these efforts to aid the people. I do not wish any offense your Highness, but Tristain seems very reliant on these people." He could see his words- words that Henrietta obviously believed would find their way back to the Pope's ear- were rattling her.

"Tristain is still its own realm and the Blessed Throne of Water still stands proud," she replied, hiding her own doubts from the Romalian, "We are still able to dictate the laws of this land and the path we take."

"I hope for your sake and pray that it remains so," Julio replied, "One Blessed Realm has already fallen to heresy."

The little comment was not lost on Henrietta. A frown appeared quickly on her face before she hid it from him.

"Tristain has and will always remain faithful to the teaching of Brimir." She said with a hint of crossness in her voice. "Now excuse me." She walked away from him, and Julio saw a sprinting messenger approaching before being blocked by guards.

At the very least, the Queen thought her people were still free and safe from false teachings.

' _But was it the case?'_ Julio mused as he watched her speak with the messenger. The man had a clearly Germanian accent when spoke and his clothing betrayed his origins. The Blessed Realms and Germania had always tried to put the other under their thumb before; it was nothing new. But with a re-emergence of Void users, this was not the time for such. This was a time of unity, for all nations.

* * *

December was nearly over, and it was approaching three weeks since the invasion had been dealt with. The media had been allowed in to see the aftermath, the thousands of prisoners being treated humanely, and the efforts Earth was going through to help the wounded local population. Public support was high, and everyone was patting themselves on the back for the job well done. Everything, from the extremely speedy deployment of forces to the actual combat performance, couldn't have been done better insisted both governments.

But there was still the meeting between the three heads of state that people were waiting for, and they finally got their wish on the 28th, only a few days before the New Year. New York was ready. Security was tight with hundreds of officers roaming the streets.

The meeting would be at the Trump Tower, which would also be where the Tristainians would stay for their visit, and the fact had kicked off a media firestorm that nearly drowned out the much more interesting story of the day long war that had just been fought. This wasn't the first time a controversy over a Trump property had been waged; he had a history of going to his own venues. The argument was made that it had all the facilities needed and all proceeds were going to be donated back to the Treasury Department, meaning in theory that it cost nothing. Trump wouldn't have gotten anything from it anyway since he'd signed away any proceeds when taking office. This wasn't the first time Trump had done something like this before- he'd held talks with Shinzo Abe at Mar-a-Lago for instance- but on the pundits wailed all the way up till the day of.

Before the international meeting started though, Trudeau and Trump had a private meeting.

"We gotta be fierce here. This could make or break everything we've done up to this point," Trump said as he looked out the window into the busy streets below.

"We're looking for peace on all fronts." Trudeau replied while Trump nodded.

"Saving their lands is the furthest I'm willing to go," Trump said, "I'm not risking my men for a floating island in fantasy land."

"I don't believe anyone in our governments is interested in carrying on this war any longer." Trudeau agreed.

An Earth invasion of Albion simply wasn't happening. Neither man had seriously considered it, just out of the political cost, but their Armed Forces had looked at the option anyway. It wasn't technically impossible, but just unbearably difficult.

As a floating island, Albion could only be reached by air, and all Earth could manage in terms of air power was helicopters and small tactical fighters; the portal was simply too narrow for anything else. Any ground forces would have to be moved by helicopter, which limited it to a infantry only operation, and the supply chain would exclusively be by air. An invasion of Albion if it did happen would end up being the largest single largest airborne operation in history. There was no way Earth would rely on local airships for transportation.

"We've got other matters besides a lasting peace deal. I suppose you've heard about that Pope's messenger?" Trump asked, "From the looks of it, he's been snooping around alot."

Trudeau closed his eyes and crossed his arms.

"Yes I did. I have no doubt that the Romalian Papacy wants to know what we're up to and if we're a danger to their power. If they're anything like the Catholic church used to be, I have no doubt that they'll be trying to spy on us."

"Albion didn't have any luck and I don't think they will too." Trump scoffed disdainfully.

"If anything, this can be an opportunity for us." Trudeau remarked, "Send envoys and spies to see what kind of power the Romalian papacy is." That was a danger in itself; Romalia was a long way away from the portal. Definitely out of of range of most aircraft and past a country that was practically hostile to them. If something happened to a delegation, there wouldn't be much they could do.

No doubt that they were dogmatic and manipulative if the Catholic Church was anything comparable as well. Their diplomats would have to be very savvy.

"We pretty much have to, if this Pope can just wave his hand and turn everyone against us." Trump said while Trudeau nodded.

"It could also play into our hands as well if we can sway this man into being an ally."

"As long as it doesn't mean making ourselves look stupid." Trump remarked pointedly, still remembering Trudeau's infamous state trip to India. There was no way he'd play dress up the way the Canadian Prime Minister did.

"Mr. President, Prime Minister." An aide stuck their head into the room. "The delegation has arrived."

* * *

The Tristainian delegation's arrival in New-York was well covered by the media, having been ferried in by the Royal Canadian Air Force aboard CAN Force One. Reporters from everywhere had rushed to cover the events. As they arrived at La Guardia Airport, the delegation was in awe of the great city as they left in a guarded convoy. The many buildings dwarfed built anything in Halkeginia while the busy streets of New-York seemed to have more people in them than the entirety of Tristain. Montreal seemed like a small town compared to this city.

"Impressive," General du Poitier whispered as he looked at the city from the inside of the limousine, "How can you built such cities?"

"Through a lot of hard work and American willpower," Connors said. He was the State Department representative had served as liaison during the funeral that Henrietta had attended. Retasking him was a given.

"New-York City is one of our oldest cities in fact. It was founded almost 400 years ago when the first settlers arrived here."

"This city is only 400 years old?" Henrietta was surprised at how rapidly the city had been built up. Tristainia was built thousands of years ago but was nowhere near comparable to this place.

"Yes. This city holds a great deal of importance in the history of the United States since many people first came here before allowed to settle else in the country," Connors explained, "As well as our world."

"Your Majesty, New-York is one of the most famous cities on Earth," Saito said excitedly, "There are alot of great monuments and stores here. I've always wanted to visit New-York."

Louise was looking at the scenery with almost childlike awe at the New-York skyline.

"Not only that M. Hiraga but New-York is also one of the greatest economic hubs where many trade deals are made and companies are based," Connors explained, "As well as some of the greatest museums in the world."

"What are the great monuments you speak of?," Lady Vallière asked, "Are they dedicated to your nation's greatest victories?"

Connors shook his head.

"Not only to our victories but to our nation's very soul and aspirations. The most famous one we have here is the Statue of Liberty which was gifted to us by one of our old friends."

"That statue represents the American love of freedom right?" Saito asked, remembering what he learned about the United States.

"Lady Liberty represents not only that but also our desire for a better future for all people," he explained, "She symbolizes our desire to allow every person control of their destiny."

"It seems that your nation has a lot of importance to one's freedom," Lady Vallière remarked, "How does this not lead to chaos?"

"Through fair laws milady."

"Excuse me M. Connors," Louise asked, "But how do the people here live? It looks very noisy and busy."

"It's almost like my home city, Tokyo, actually," Saito answered, "People are just used to this."

"How can you defend such a large city?" Du Poitier asked, "I cannot see any walls or fortifications."

"The only way any attack can possibly come is from the sea. The US Navy dwarfs all others on Earth." Connors simply stated, "No one can match us at sea, and thus we have nothing to fear."

"What about the air?" He asked, remembering the air attacks on Albion.

"Not only do have the greatest Air Force, but in our world navies can fight against aircraft. We collaborate with Canada to defend our airspace against any aerial intrusion."

"This is quite reassuring," Agnes said, "Is the Trump Tower well guarded?"

"You can rest easy, Chevalier de Milan. The United States takes security for its allies extremely seriously." Connors answered confidently, "No corner has been cut in making that you are all safe while staying here."

"What exactly is the Trump Tower?" Henrietta asked, "Is it President Trump's palace?"

"Not really, M. President resides at the White House in Washington D.C."

"Isn't it one of his biggest hotels or something?" Saito asked, remembering his conversation with President Trump.

"It used to belong to him before he became President of the United States but now it belongs to his family who have generously allowed these talks to take place there without paying anything." Connors explained, "and the Trump Tower is not a hotel but a building."

"What does this tower look like?" Lady Vallière asked as the limousine came to a stop, "What are the accommodations like?"

She knew that Earth was expedient in its dealings and didn't like ceremony.

"I heard that it was the most luxurious places on Earth," Saito piped up as they exited. Security had cordoned off the area.

"Well, here we are. You should be able to get an idea once we get inside." Connors said, pointing to a massive tower of glass with a sign that said "Trump Tower."

They had to get past a horde of reporters outside, but once they entered, the group was speechless. The atrium was well lit and oozed with opulence. The sound of waterfalls could be heard as well. The lighting seemed to make it look like the interior was made from gold though upon close inspection, it appeared to be smooth stone. As they looked up, the ceiling seemed distant.

"Welcome to New York City!" a voice boomed out, "What do you think of my home city?"

Two familiar men were walking towards them. Trump was slightly in front.

"Greetings President Trump, it is an impressive city," Henrietta said before curtsying, "Greetings Prime Minister Trudeau."

The others Tristainians were introduced then the Earth leaders and were sizing them up.

"It is my pleasure to finally meet you in person General du Poitier. I must congratulate you and the Tristainian army for your heroic defense of Tristainia" Trudeau greeted warmly as he shook the man's hands before moving to Lady Vallière.

"The Queen spoke very highly of you, Milady." he said, "And I am quite happy with your daughter's efforts in bringing our worlds together. You must be very proud."

"Thank you Prime Minister Trudeau." Lady Vallière replied simply, "Her actions are quite indeed commendable and praise worthy."

Meanwhile, Trump was addressing Louise and Saito.

"Both times we meet with the other world, you two are here." He observed.

Saito wasn't sure what to answer to that. Louise looked a little embarrassed at the acknowledgement, which led to her mother intervening.

"President Trump, my daughter is a loyal servant of her Majesty and of Tristain that has done much to save our lands from the enemy. It is only fitting that she is here."

"I understand exactly what you mean Duchess Vallière," Trump replied smugly, "Rising stars like you two are the kind of people I want on my side!"

Saito's jaw almost dropped. Did the most powerful man on Earth just praise him?

"T-thank you M. President!"

"I think it's high time that we get a head start on discussions," Trump than said as he guided them to an elevator, "Once it's over, we can enjoy a proper meal. Trump Tower's catering is second to none!"

* * *

Trump Tower had many shops, penthouses and wide rooms to be rented out for parties or other ventures. Today however, it was not only the site of a historical moment, but what happened hear would have repercussions across two worlds.

Sitting around a round table was the Tristainian delegation, the Canadian delegation and the hosting Americans. Papers detailing the day's business had been handed out to every party.

"Let's get down to business then," Trump was straight forward, "We need to talk about how this war with Albion should end. We've all put in good work to end the fighting already."

"Shouldn't your air attacks have crippled the remainder of Albion's navy?" du Poitier asked.

"That is the case," Trudeau replied, "But you were informed of what our people did in Londinium- these people still want to fight. We cannot fight them indefinitely, and no nation should endeavor to fight an enemy forever. Peace is in everyone's best interest."

"A state of constant war is one my kingdom cannot sustain, so I must agree with you M. Trudeau," Henrietta replied, "But I'm sure you understand there are many ways to peace. Before we left, Germania has proposed that Tristain join them in an invasion. Can your armies not join us?"

"We're not taking part in an invasion." Trump shook his head immediately.

"But why?" Lady Vallière asked angrily, "You have already fought Albion and defeated them with ease. No doubt that their best forces have already been defeated. Your armies are already in our lands."

"Our generals have analyzed what it would take to invade Albion and it would be very difficult for us to undertake such a campaign simply because Albion is on a floating island," Trudeau explained, "And to be quite honest, your Majesty, Albion has stopped posing an immediate threat to us."

"I see." Henrietta acknowledged, realizing their reasons were just. Germania had a reason to want to invade. Tristain had a reason to want to invade. But America and Canada didn't.

"Are you going to accept Germania's offer?" Trudeau pressed.

"It is still being debated in my court." Henrietta clarified. "Many nobles are eager, but there are many who say we are not strong enough, especially with the casualties to our armies." Duke Vallière was actually one of the idea's main opponents. His wife shared the same opinion but was more concerned with her daughter's situation.

"Is Germania going to go through with this whether or not you agree?" Trudeau continued.

"No," du Poitier answered, "They have no harbors close enough to attack Albion and supply the invasion. That is why they have approached us with such a demand."

Trudeau and Trump looked at each other as they processed the information.

"What are their plans for Albion once the war is over?" Trump asked, "Do they want total control over the country?"

Henrietta shook her head.

"No, Emperor Albert wishes to divide the lands between Tristain and the Germanian nobles that will accompany him." Two words immediately popped into several heads: Berlin and Germany.

"Would these lands be annexed?" Trudeau asked.

"They would be under the laws and customs of the realm occupying them," Henrietta cooly replied, "As well as their responsibility."

"This is not the first time that this has been done," Trump said.

"What do you mean M. Trump?" Lady Vallière asked.

"Around 75 years ago, Canada and the United States were involved in a great war called the Second World War. We mentioned it during your last visit."

"I recall." Henrietta nodded, "How does this concern Albion's fate?"

"Well your Majesty, one of the defeated countries was partitioned between the four leading nations of that alliance," Trudeau explained, "The scenario you have proposed for Albion is quite similar in fact."

"Wasn't that the Cold War?" Saito asked suddenly.

"Yes M. Hiraga. Those occupation zones became fronts for conflict when the members of the alliance began to turn on one another."

"Are you saying that is what is going to happen to us?" du Poitier said.

"No," Trump said bluntly, "Unless if the Germanian Emperor is a paranoid and power hungry man, it should not happen. Everything only happened because Stalin started wanting too much power for his own good."

"Stalin?"

"One of the alliance leaders at the time and the most unpleasant one to say the least," Trudeau replied simply, "From what we've heard, Emperor Albert III is an ambitious man."

"Yes, there is no doubt of that," Henrietta said, "But his strategy is one I can support if it means ensuring the safety of my kingdom."

There was a brief silence before someone spoke up again.

"Can you support us in any way?" Lady Vallière asked, "We are willing to buy your muskets and arm our soldiers with them."

"Selling you weapons is out of the question," Trump bluntly stated.

"I must agree with President Trump," Trudeau added, "Selling weaponry is a laborious process in our world."

"It is fine, Duchess Valliere." Henrietta spoke up when it was clear the woman was agitated by the refusal. "It can be possible for Tristain and Germania to launch such an invasion without aid." That one sentence struck a chord, although neither Trump nor Trudeau protested it out loud.

Trump leaned back in his chair, thinking while Trudeau's eyes narrowed slightly as he placed a hand on his chin.

"We must make it clear we do not agree with this as a way to end the war." Trudeau said diplomatically. "But if that is the way Tristain seeks to handle its affairs...we'll accept it."

"Perhaps there is a compromise that can be made," Trump suggested.

"What do you suggest President Trump?" du Poitier asked.

"We will not invade Albion or sell weapons." He repeated. "But there are other ways we can help."

"Such as?" du Poitier was remembering their base on the coast. It had been remarkably useful for how limited it was (by their own words, anyway).

"We'll have to examine and discuss." Trudeau interjected. "But we have time. I'm sure Germania and Tristain have no intention of conducting this invasion anytime soon."

"We will let you know when we decide." Henrietta told them. The Queen had come away from that conversation with a small sense of satisfaction. Assertion. She made it clear her Kingdom could act without them and they'd acknowledged it too.

"But let's not settle on an invasion right away. War should always be the last resort." Trudeau said as a pacifist, "There are other solution possible."

"Such as?" Henrietta was skeptical, deciding not to point out how their first instinct when they'd gotten word of trouble in Albion was to use their soldiers.

"Would it possible to send a delegation demanding Albion to negotiate a peace settlement and war reparations to Tristain? Perhaps set up a friendly ruler in Albion as part of the settlement."

"Such a proposition is commendable M. Trudeau," Lady Vallière said, "But we do not believe that Albion would accept to even speak to an envoy. Their people are too far from civility to return."

"An attempt must be made," Trudeau insisted, "Perhaps their new leaders are reasonable enough to accept."

"Forgive me for doubting that Albion would be reasonable enough to accept," Lady Vallière replied tactfully, "Their leaders are usurpers who have betrayed their king so I do not believe that their word can even be trusted."

"Do we know of anyone in Albion that is still loyal or are related to the Tudors then?" Trump asked, "We can maybe get them in power."

"No," Louise spoke for the first time, remembering her last trip to Albion, "They all died fighting at the Siege of Newcastle after Prince Wales was slain or were murdered after Reconquista took power."

Henrietta closed her eyes, remembering the fate of her lover while Trudeau and Trump digested the information.

"Is there anyone on the continent that has ties to the house of Tudor and could stake a claim on the throne of Albion?" Trudeau asked

"My father, King Henry III, was from the house of Tudor but I cannot stake a claim on two Blessed Realms at the same time," Henrietta answered, "It would no doubt lead to conflict with Gallia."

"We see… Just understand, your Majesty, the idea of permanently taking away a country's sovereignty is very disturbing to us." Trudeau explained, "It is a practice that is very shunned on Earth and our allies would no doubt condemn us if we supported your efforts in doing such a thing."

"Then what do you do when you win a war against another country?" Lady Vallière asked, irritated by the man's lack of will.

"We rebuilt the country and make sure that it can stand on its own," Trump said, "Make sure that they realize in their hearts and minds that they don't need to go to war against us to gain anything."

"Like they did with my country." Saito explained to the Queen.

"Clearly, this isn't a matter that can be decided in one day," Trudeau finally said to stop the small risk forming over the disagreement, "We must touch other subjects as well. My next concern is the fate of Oliver Cromwell. It is an exceptional situation for us as this is the first time in many years that an enemy national leader is captured in wartime before the fighting is over."

The Tristainians couldn't help but be a bit proud at the little victory they did.

"Your commanders told us that you had ways of humiliating enemy leaders after wars," du Poitier recalled, "What are they exactly?"

Trudeau and Trump had prepared themselves considerably for this part.

"We would like to suggest that Oliver Cromwell be tried for war crimes and potentially crimes against humanity." Trudeau said simply.

"A _trial_?" Lady Vallière was grateful for her discipline and etiquette. She almost burst out laughing at such a proposition, "Surely this man is clearly guilty of his acts. Why should we not execute him right away. He is still rotting in a cell in Tristainia."

"What do you mean by war crimes and crime against humanity?" du Poitier asked, an eyebrow raised skeptically.

"A war crime is when an army commits needless atrocities during a period of war and go against the laws of war," Trump explained, "Like looting the land or mindless destruction."

"As for a crime against humanity, it would be a heinous act on a very large scale ordered by Cromwell and his government," Trudeau explained, "Such as the massacre at Tarbes. Normally though, since Tristain has not signed the many treaties concerning those, Cromwell would not be held accountable."

"Why do you wish to enforce such rules if my kingdom has not signed any of these treaties?" Henrietta asked, masking her irritation, "Would it not stall punishment for Cromwell?"

"Imagine you are a religious crusader, deeply believing that you are a righteous man acting in the name of your Faith," Trump started, "Imagine if you are not only utterly defeated on a battlefield but also humiliated by being tried and being declared a criminal of the worst kind possible."

"No matter what Cromwell did," Trudeau added, "He will be remembered as a lowly criminal for the rest of time and punished as one. No one civilized or honorable would want to associate themselves with such a man after such a verdict. His humiliation would be complete on top of any sentence he will face."

"Do tell me what kind of sentence does your world have for such a criminal M. Trudeau?" Lady Vallière asked, morbid curiosity getting the better of her.

"The sentences are quite varied to say the least," Trudeau replied.

"Death or jail sentences," Trump said nonchalantly, "Depending on how bad he is, Cromwell could be alone in a tiny, dark cell until his death with no contact with the outside world or simply hanged. We did that to some of our enemies."

The Tristainians all looked at each other. The idea was interesting to say the least.

"I must admit that this proposition is quite… enticing for us," Henrietta finally said, "How would this work?"

"It is a complex process as we would need to set up a special court simply for Oliver Cromwell," Trudeau explained, "But it could be done within a few months."

Henrietta looked at her party who all had approving looks on their faces.

"What would the arrangements needed?" she asked carefully, "How would this trial work?"

"All of this can be explained in due time," Trump said, "But you would be interested in such a proposal?"

"Yes, once we receive more information about the procedure and given a chance to explain it to our own people."

"We can explain that later then," Trudeau suggested, everyone nodding in agreement, "With that matter settled, perhaps we can now talk about how we will help you rebuild Tristain."

The mood lightened slightly.

"Have you been able to see how much damage Reconquista has done to your lands?" Trump asked.

"The harvest is practically lost in the lands west of the capital and the capital's stores are barely sufficient," Henrietta stated, "We fear important famines and our treasury would be unable to import enough foodstuff from Gallia to feed our people. Many nobles also wish to return to their holdings with their forces to recover from the war."

"Many villages and key towns in the region have been raided and plundered as well," Du Poitiers added, "Some key bridges and roads are damaged but the countryside is slowly being pacified. Though our forces have been depleted and we cannot fend off monsters attacking settlements as well as we used to. We fear that bandits will also increase."

"What about the eastern and southern holdings?" Trump asked, "What is their status?"

"Our lands have been largely spared by the invasion and we can help supply food to the western lands but it will be difficult to transport everything. Though our army has sustained severe losses and we cannot spare any forces guarding our lands and the borders with Germania. As for the southern borders, Marshall Grammont's army is barely able to man the border forts with Gallia. Your forces present there are of great help," she added reluctantly.

It was a serious but not catastrophic situation if the proper measures could be taken.

"Refresh my memory but how many months before it is winter time in Tristain?" Trudeau asked, remembering his own country's history.

"Winter is in two months," she answered, "Our crops will not be ready to be harvested in such a short amount of time."

Trudeau leaned back in his seat, musing as he thought of a solution while Trump's eyes narrowed in concentration.

"Well, it's a good thing the United States and Canada are known for their humanitarian efforts," Trump finally said, "We can easily arrange for food to be delivered to Tristain."

"Wouldn't it affect your stores?" Henrietta asked skeptically.

"Don't worry about anything, the American agriculture is extremely well off. We're second to none when it comes to growing food."

Trudeau stifled a laugh. While America had an impressive agricultural production… it wasn't the greatest one on Earth but still was one of the top dogs.

"You have seen only a small portion of what our agricultural techniques can do, your Majesty," Trudeau said, "Canada and the United States can easily supply food this winter and help you increase crop yields once the winter is done."

"Hmm… May I suggest something?" Henrietta replied. Both men nodded.

"Perhaps would it possible for my armies to be in charge in distributing the food in my name? It would help reassure my people that I am doing something to alleviate their suffering. It would also please many nobles wanting to return to their lands."

Trump and Trudeau mused for a second over the implications that this proposition would entail. On one hand, it would help consolidate the Tristainian monarchy and show its ability to handle a crisis. On the other hand, it demanded an incredible amount of faith in the Tristainian nobles and armies that both Trump and Trudeau weren't willing to give just yet. There was simply too many things that could go wrong. Corrupt nobles, hoarding and black markets… things that could derail any good intentions that the queen had.

Trudeau cleared his throat.

"Your idea is quite admirable, your Majesty," he praised, "But I believe that this is an opportunity for all of our gathered nations."

"How so?"

"I see this as an opportunity to show off the bonds of friendship between Tristain, Canada and the United States," Trudeau explained, "If our three nations work together to give aid to the people of Tristain, it would show them how much the American and Canadian people care about the wellbeing of Tristain."

"Not only that," Trump added, catching on Trudeau's idea, "But it would help relieve the strain on your armies by using less men to distribute food. No doubt that your nobles would be happier having as many of their troops guard the lands and borders. That's how I feel about mine."

Trudeau bit his tongue, hiding his personal disapproval to some of Trump's policies concerning his borders with Mexico.

"I can appreciate your views on border security President Trump," Lady Vallière finally said, "But not all of Tristain's nobility would support what they would see as foreign troops encroaching on their personal domains even if it was in good intention."

She hid her discomfort at having foreigners on her lands, even if they were allied. Leaders could say all they wanted about the discipline and good order of their fighting men… but reality was another thing.

"Perhaps we could offer some sort of compensation or reward as a form of enticement for any noble allowing our troops on his domain," Trump suggested, "No doubt that we can easily find something that would please them."

The Tristainians all looked at each other before nodding.

"Perhaps we may be able to find common ground," Henrietta said, "Your proposition is quite interesting."

"I am very happy about how productive this meeting has been," Trudeau said happily, "At this rate, Tristain should be quickly back on its feet."

"Indeed," Trump glanced at his watch, noticing the time, "I think we have all had a rather busy morning, especially you and your representatives, your Majesty. Please, let me treat you to some of the finest cooking New York has to over!"

* * *

The meal was a sumptuous affair. The diplomatic parties were brought to a beautiful dining room with a magnificent wooden table and impressive chandelier hanging above. The catering was impressive as well with fine meats being served alongside fresh vegetables. The great window allowed them to enjoy the sight that was the New York skyline.

"I hope that the meal is up to your taste," Trump asked, "This was made by some of the finest chefs in New York."

"Yes, thank you M. President," Henrietta replied before Lady Vallière spoke up.

"I must admit that I am impressed by the reception we have had so far. From what I have heard prior to our meeting, I had always thought that the United States and Canada did not engage in such luxuries."

"There is a time for anything Lady Vallière," Trump replied, "There are times where speed is needed and there are times where we can enjoy a good meal. America knows how to enjoy itself."

"A wise mentality indeed."

Trump nodded.

"I was wondering about something your officers said during the battle," General du Poitier asked as he cut a piece of meat, "But what are weapons of mass destruction in your world?"

"Your men qualified my daughter's powers as being such." Duchess Vallière added, "And the tone they used was not a casual one."

The atmosphere tensed up for a moment as Trudeau and Trump looked at each other while Saito felt his pulse quicken. Louise froze up.

"Indeed… this is a difficult topic," Trudeau said, "One we wished to speak of tomorrow."

"I don't see any harm in explaining the concept of Weapon of Mass Destruction," Trump suggested. Trudeau nodded.

"Weapon of Mass Destruction with extremely high destructive power. For example, one of those weapons can raze this entire city with one use. Their power is such that their use is limited through international treaties," the prime minister explained, "Using them or even building them can be a cause of war."

It took a moment for this information to sink into the Tristainians' minds.

"But we saw your weapons during the battles and how their might swept away the Albion armies with ease," Duchess Vallière protested, "What difference is there between your regular weapons and these 'Weapons of Mass Destruction'?"

"It's their power," Trump replied bluntly, "Nothing can compare to a WMD. Isn't that right M. Hiraga?"

"Why are you asking him?" the duchess and the others looked at Saito curiously while Trudeau cleared his throat but the teen spoke up first.

"Your Majesty, do you remember what I told you about my country? About the cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki?"

Henrietta paled as she remembered that story.

"What is the meaning of this?" General du Poitier asked.

"During the last great war, the United States won by using two atomic bombs that razed two Japanese cities in an instant," Trump explained, "After that, we never used them again."

"Those weapons are almost never used simply because of the extreme suffering that they can cause," Trudeau continued, "The atomic bombs poisoned those cities and caused many people to be sick for a few decades. There are other types weapons of mass destruction as well which can bring as much death."

"What happens to those that use them then?" Duchess Vallière asked.

"The last time a man and his country tried to make them… we destroyed him and his armies," Trump snarled, "We defeated his army and destroyed his rule."

"But there are more peaceful ways when it comes to dealing with weapons of mass destruction," Trudeau quickly corrected, "No doubt that we can reach a consensus on Lady Vallière's powers. But let us try to enjoy this day having ended with made good progress."

"Indeed Prime Minister Trudeau," Henrietta said.

"Good, good. Allow me to show you all even more of our finest dishes," Trump bragged as dessert and coffee were brought out, "I hope you'll appreciate the rooms you'll be staying in."

* * *

Both parties retired to their respective quarters after dinner. There was to be a pause in the talks until the next day as the Tristainians had a long day simply getting to New-York. Like the others, Saito and Louise had gotten their own quarters. The Tokyo teen had crashed on one of the couches before turning on the massive flat screen television.

"To think that I thought that Rideau Hall was awesome… this place is even better!" He exclaimed as he put on a movie.

Louise was still looking around the room at the various decorations before she opened a door. She gasped as she saw the luxurious bed inside.

"Saito!" she exclaimed, "Come here! Is this where we going to sleep?"

Saito made his way over, a goofy look on his face.

"Whoa… awesome! I think so!"

He could already picture snuggling up to the pinkette as well as another nightly activities when the sound of a throat being cleared snapped him out of his reverie.

"There will be none of that," Lady Vallière said sternly as she entered the room, "You will not be sleeping in the same bed tonight. Such behavior is inappropriate as you are both unwedded. I will be sleeping here with Louise while you will be in a separate bedroom for the night. I have already asked for such arrangements to be made."

"But Mother-"

"That is final young lady," her mother cut off, "You must act as a proper lady of the House of Vallières. Now more than ever. However, you may enjoy each other's company during the day."

"Yes Mother," Louise replied dejectedly, barely suppressing a pout on her face.

"Do you wanna watch a movie though Louise? I think I can find a movie you would like," Saito said, trying to lighten up the mood and salvage the situation.

"Fine! If you can find anything good!"

* * *

The second day of talks proved to be far more conclusive. Louise's Void Magic, while powerful by Halkeginian standards, was finally judged to be unfitting for a WMD classification. The witness accounts had been considered and the explosion, while generating a surprisingly large concussive shockwave, was still lesser than the power of some non-nuclear explosives. In that world, it was certainly something to fear.

But for Earth? There were scarier weapons than Louise's magic that were far more convenient and far harder to take out before they did damage.

"Not that your daughter's standing isn't significant." Trudeau explained to Lady Vallière afterwards to avoid any unfortunate implications, "But I must admit that we may have overreacted in terms of how dangerous she truly is. I must apologize for that."

"That being said, I believe we should show you what happens when a nuclear weapon is used," Trump said as he turned on a TV. "Just to create an understanding."

Grainy images of large mushroom-like fireballs were accompanied by a calm, almost casual narration describing the nightmarish powers of the nuclear bombs being unleashed on two cities. It soon shifted to images of flattened buildings and grievously wounded people while the narrator described the poisonous aftereffects of these bombs. Even if some of the words were unknown to the Tristainians, the simple images were shocking enough. Saito looked sick during the whole time, even if he had seen the images before at school.

"Do you understand why we are careful about the use of WMD's?" Trudeau asked before adding more, "Those weapons have to potential to annihilate civilization of Earth if overused."

No one dared to contest his words.

"Was that war so terrible that such weapons had to be used?" Du Poitier asked in a weary voice.

"Yes." Trudeau answered flatly. "Let's hope that we may never have to use such a weapon in Halkeginia."

"Quite…" Lady Vallière said, then raised her voice again. "I think it's time we got the matter of my daughter and her familiar."

"Yes." Henrietta agreed. "As I have stated before, I will not tolerate any unjust treatments towards my _dear friend_ and her familiar from your governments."

The emphasis on certain words was not missed by either leaders. Duchess Vallière's gaze hardened as she looked at Trudeau and Trump who remained passive.

"We understand your point of view your Majesty," Trudeau said diplomatically, "We have spoken to our agents about this and they have reassured us that they will cease their activities concerning Lady Vallière and her familiar. We regret that this ever happened."

That was a lie in some ways since the agents would simply publicly back off… though nothing was said completely ceasing any covert activities or investigations for the time being.

"But you have not amended the fact it happened in the first place," Henrietta pointed out.

"We must apologize for our agents'... zeal," Trudeau said, "We did not order them to investigate Lady Vallière and M. Hiraga. They did so as part of their usual duties."

"Which are?" Louise's mother asked coldly.

"Find anything that could hurt us or make things difficult." Trump told her. "That's boy's runes are a big deal to us." Trump had intentionally diverted attention for a few moments to Louise's familiar/boyfriend. Saito looked down at his left hand where the Gandalfr runes were.

"What do you mean?" Henrietta asked suspiciously.

"According to our reports, M. Hiraga's runes allow him to instantly master any weapons," Trudeau explained, "I'm sure you can realize how that would worry us. Lady Valliere's abilities were discovered in the course of the investigation, completely unintentionally."

"You neglected to inform us of either matter." Henrietta didn't let it go.

"As we have said before," Trump replied firmly, "We were not made aware of this situation. We hold no responsibility." He insisted. "Not even she believed it at the time." He said further, motioning to Louise. "Nobody was sure of anything, and who acts when they don't know something?" He put the question forward.

This effectively stumped Henrietta and her party as Trump made a good point, although they could hardly come away from the revelation pleased.

"What happened was unfortunate." Trudeau admitted with sincerity in his voice, "But we must move beyond this for the future of our countries. There are more pressing betters in my opinion such as how we are to distribute aid in Tristain."

"I agree," Henrietta finally said after a moment of silence, "But do not believe that I will forget your actions against my friends."

Despite this, the rest of the talks went smoothly with both parties eventually agreeing on how the relief efforts would be handled as well as how future assistance programs would be worked.

Both sides agreed to defer the subject of Albion till Tristain decided what to do with Germania's offer.

* * *

While it was December 30th on Earth, just shy of the new year, in Halkegenia is was still the warmer months. Construction was still on going, although only in the Capital. The Earth forces were contained mostly around Tristainia, their base on the coast, and the southern border. A few territories like Tarbes where the noble in charge had been killed were also garrisoned, but most holdings were left alone save those on the border. Already, several lords had left with what little remained of their forces. Those with holdings in the West had been very quick to leave. Minister Delage, very busy already, was coordinating with the Earth forces to transfer control over those leaderless areas now directly to the crown.

Julio noted all of this in his letter to Pope Vittorio before transitioning to the subject of the outworlders.

" _They are a type of people unlike either our faithful or the elves. Many could pass as natives here, but others have a complexion unlike any human I have ever seen, although human they are. Some had skins almost as dark as the night while others had skin yellow like fields of grain. Many stand tall and proud despite being mere commoners in their worlds. Their bodies simply tower over many Tristainians as they told of wealthy lands where food shortages are inexistent. The ones I encountered spoke very fluent Tristainian and Albionian- the same languages exist in their world under different names, supposedly. They mainly hail from the lands of Canada and the United States, a realm of 50 states united together but there is at least another ally of theirs, the United Kingdom, that is present on a smaller scale."_

" _They are indeed without magic, but compensate with constructs of such power that magic is nearly obsolete. I have witnessed the might of these constructs. Horseless carts carrying massive amounts of supplies that thunder down on roads and small, nimble airships that soar through the heavens with speed unrivaled of. Means of communications that are near instantaneous that have allowed me to rapidly speak to emissaries of their lands. Despite being massively outnumbered, they were able to vanquish the Albion army while barely losing any of their soldiers. Not only that, but many of their merchants had begun trading goods from their world before the invasion. I have seen certain of these wares. They are supposedly largely affordable wares meant for commoners but the craftsmanship is of the highest order with consistent quality. Supposedly, the finer made wares are even superior. There are also tales that they had sent scholars to study magic and the possibilities of combining it with their constructs. Much of what I have seen is similar to what we have hidden in the great vaults. I believe that you may be correct in believing that the Founder has seen a reason to finally connect the world from which these relics come."_

" _Their emissaries were easily approached as they have built 'embassies' in Tristainia, places where the emissaries stay in order to conduct daily business with the nobility and the crown. They were more than willing to discuss with any representative of Romalia. I have been unable to meet their leaders but they are not led by kings but men chosen by the commoners. To be honest, your Eminence, some of their ideas of charity are similar to your own as they have pledged to help Tristain's people after this terrible war, commoner and noble."_

" _They have never heard of The Founder in their world, as clearly they were not blessed with his gift. But they show the utmost respect for him here. They claim to have many different Gods who have created their lands and people on their side of the portal, and I have seen a few praying to one such God. I have seen no evidence of them spreading their gods' teachings or faiths in Tristain's lands. They even claim that we would be allowed to build churches to Him in their lands should our people ever venture there. I will attempt to learn more about their faiths and will remain cautious for any efforts to misguide our Faithful."_

" _On the subject of the rumors of one blessed with Brimir's powers, a Void Mage has been blessed upon Tristain, although the Queen has yet to reveal their identity to me willingly, often excusing herself to work on restoring her lands. I will do my utmost to discover their identity."_

" _The Queen herself has gone to the other world to discuss with their leaders along with a small party. They claim that these talks will last only but a few days and will be centered around ending the conflict with Albion. I will write another letter detailing the results of this meeting and anything else I've discovered in due time."_

" _Your faithful servant, Julio Chésaré."_

* * *

The eyes of the world were turned towards New York City. Today was a historical day for Earth and Halkeginia as the Tristainians arrived at the United Nations for the first time since the portal's appearance. The guests had been treated to a guided tour of the building that explained the history of the great organisation. Now they stood in the General Assembly of the United Nations with the curious eyes of every delegation on them. Many hid said curiosity behind stoic faces as they waited for the President of the General Assembly, María Fernanda Espinosa, to finish her speech.

"As we must now prepare for what the future holds, I now give the floor to Prime Minister Justin Trudeau of Canada."

There was a small round of applause as the Canadian prime minister took the stage from her. Cameras were rolling as news channels everywhere on Earth worked to report the great moment that unfurled before them.

"Thank you, your Excellency. I am very happy to be present today as we move forward in an new era. It has been just over a year since Canada and the United States have made contact with the Kingdom of Tristain and the continent of Halkeginia. In the last year, our nations have worked together in peace in the pursuit of prosperity for both worlds. Despite that, arrogance, envy and anger forced us into conflict with the lands of Albion and much innocent blood had been spilled by the mad ambitions of a cruel dictator. We have been victorious in our efforts to bring peace but it was not without a price. Much of Tristain lies in ruin."

Trudeau paused.

"But Canada will stand with Tristain in these trying times. I will now let President Trump address you."

The prime minister stepped down before the American president got behind the podium, a proud smirk on his face.

"Once more, the United States of America stands on the right side of History," Trump boasted, "With the help of our allies, we have defeated a cruel tyrant that threatened the freedom and our security of both our worlds. I have no doubt that Oliver Cromwell would have committed atrocities unheard since World War II. Even though we won, there is still alot of work to do in order to guarantee peace in Halkeginia. We have already begun to do what is necessary but it is only the beginning of our mission over there. The United States will spare no efforts in ensuring security, peace and prosperity in Halkeginia."

His advisors had told him it would not be a difficult thing to do, all things considered. A very cooperative local government that was in their debt, primitive technology and a grateful population would make things a lot easier than the Middle-East.

"I will now have the pleasure of introducing you to Queen Henrietta I of Tristain."

As the president stepped down from the podium, Henrietta made her way up with her party looking at her. The Tristainians stood out in stark contrast compared to the General Assembly's many delegations, their garb being far more reminiscent of old Europe.

"It is a great pleasure for me to stand here before you," Henrietta began her speech confidently, "Such cooperation between different realms is unheard of in Halkeginia and I cannot be more thankful that of all the possible lands to join to ours, it was the merciful powers of the United States and Canada. They have been honest and just in our dealings together, a luxury that my kingdom has long searched for. It will take much effort to rebuild Tristain after this war with Albion but I see in this a great opportunity for both of our worlds to cooperate and learn from each other. Therefore, I look forward to working with them but also with the other members of the United Nations as we strive for a better future between our worlds."

The queen stepped down, a great round of applause echoing in the General Assembly. But despite this, there were many delegates who hid their displeasure at the speeches. No one was deluding themselves that it would be easy to establish ties with Tristain or anyone in Halkeginia if they weren't on good terms with the United States or Canada. No doubt that the speeches had already reached their leaders back home and that plans were already being drawn up…

The news finished broadcasting the departure of the Tristainian delegation but phones all over Earth were already ringing, diplomats contacting one another. Old allies wanting to help while rivals trying to gain leverage.

Business as usual.

Author's endnote: Things are getting interesting non? Trudeau's trip to India… just google it up. Makes me cringe everytime I look at it.

Hope you guys enjoyed it and, as always, please leave us a review.


	18. Chapter 16: Catching your Breath

**Disclaimer: FoZ/ZnT belong to the departed Noboru Yamaguchi and whoever inherited the I.P.. Any real life organisation/person is merely being used in a fictional non-profit way.**

 **Sorry about the long delay in getting this chapter out. It needed a lot of work to get it just right. Big chapter coming in so… yeah.**

 **Catching your Breath**

In spite of the prison camp erected just a short distance away to replace the temporary one, the market around the portal has already started to reform, at least on the Tristainian side. It was the usual collection of merchants, but now also impoverished families and even a few nobles. People who'd lost a lot in the war and were coming here either to buy scarce necessities or sell what little they had left for food and clothing. Fortunately for them, they found charity instead of unscrupulous merchants. Great green tents had been erected with soldiers guarding them while others handed aid to the people with no discrimination.

Trucks were still coming in at regular intervals, dropping off cargo for locally stationed trucks to carry further into the country before turning around and going back to Earth. Today though, an oddity occured: Two SUVs drove through the portal, stopped at the checkpoint only long enough to conceivably flash a badge, and continued through the checkpoint and out into the nearby countryside when a helicopter was sitting with the blades spinning and ready to go.

The SUVs stopped and seven people disembarked, six in combat gear and one hidden under a very bulky cloak. Mathilda peered out from under the hood at the loud and unconventional looking airship before glancing to the academy in the distance and finally around at the nearby land, showing scars of war still. But this was definitely Halkegenia. After almost a year away, she was back.

But she was not back because of hospitality, nor was she really free. She was being moved to a another prison, but one she'd be occasionally let out of to help these people whenever they demanded it. And do make sure she didn't get any ideas during her transfer, they'd attached some sort of bracelet to her leg.

"That'll let us know where you are at all times." They told her. "And if you get too far away from us by chance or try and pull it off, who knows? It might even explode." Mathilda wasn't brave enough to see if they were lying. It wasn't like she had anywhere to go anyway; Albion wasn't safe. Cromwell was these people's prisoner; same as her. But unlike him, she had a chance to not be one.

They boarded the helicopter and it took off. Mathilda had traveled on many airships, so the journey didn't rattle her so much even if she wasn't used to the noise. This airship flew much higher and much faster than any she'd ever seen. The Academy disappeared into the distance soon, and long stretches of fields dotted with small farms and towns passed by quickly.

It was quite a sight, but Mathilda was too antsy to really take it in. She had only one thing on her mind: the children and Tiffania.

Two days ago, she'd still been in her cell on Earth. It'd been close to a year by that point, and she'd resigned herself to never getting out. Such were the risks with the lifestyle she chose, but it hadn't kept her from feeling regretful.

Then she'd gotten a visit, the first in many months, by one of their spies. They asked her a simple question: "Are you still interested in becoming a double agent?" Mathilda had immediately said yes, and the spy had left without a word. Half a day later, they placed a blindfold on her, removed her from her cell, and she left that horrid place.

Mathilda's offer of becoming a double agent had been finally accepted, it seemed. Although they were vague on what they wanted from her. "When we need you, we'll get you. In the meantime, you'll still be in jail." She'd been about to object to that as a bitter deal, but then they'd told her something else. "And as a little trust building exercise, we've decided we're going to bring all those children and your half-sister that you mentioned to Tristain. It'll be safer for them when the fighting starts." Mathilda had learned then that war could very soon be coming to the White Country once more. But she at least had a chance to guarantee Tiffania and the others were safe.

And so Mathilda waited with fretful anticipation. They were not going straight to Albion, but to a new base the outworlders had established for replenishment and to join up with the other people who'd help in this rescue. They reached it on the coast, and the airship set down. She was not allowed to disembark until all her guards had.

"Ms. Mathilda." A man approached, and the former Albion agent swore she recognized him from somewhere. "It's been a long time. How did you like Canada?" Now she remembered- he was one of the agents who'd first interrogated her.

"I'm here to rescue Tiffania." She told him straightforwardly. Devers nodded.

"Yes. And in return you're going to help us with some of our own projects in Albion." He stated what she already knew, making it clear to her that her terms were non-negotiable.

"As long as Tiffania and the children are safe."

"They will be. You should be grateful our leaders had the charity in their hearts to let us do this."

Trump and Trudeau authorizing this little excursion in Albion had a lot of reasons behind it- humanitarian chief among them. But also was the fact that when the old notes were examined, the intelligence agencies had found something very relevant to the recent New York meeting: Assuming Mathilda's story was true, this Tiffania she'd mentioned had been the illegitimate niece of the King of Albion who'd been deposed by the revolution. She technically had a claim to the throne. She was an elf, a race a despised by the locals, but it was still something worth looking into. And if nothing panned out in that regard, they could at least say they finally got a chance to meet an elf (something the scientific communities had been wondering about since the beginning) and that they'd saved innocent children. A win-win situation.

"Get this done without any problems." Devers said to the team leader. He'd be watching it all from the base. They'd had people watching the orphanage for a while now, even occasionally dropping off food during the night. Now they were getting them all out of there. Two Army Chinooks had been pulled for this job, one for the extraction and one as backup. The spooks would go in with the turncoat to coax the children out, and then they'd land and get them all loaded up and flown back here. Medical staff would be waiting to examine all of them. It was an operation they hoped to barely take 20 minutes.

Fighters were on standby here in case something happened; dragon patrols were starting to become frequent around the country, and they didn't want anything to go wrong. The Chinooks involved had been meticulously maintained and examined. This was not going to have any failures like Operation Babylift, an otherwise successful event, had had. Smaller scale meant less things to go wrong, but in this line of work that only held so much truth.

Everyone gathered to go over the plan one more time. Weapons and equipment were checked one more time. The helicopters were all checked one last time. Everything was as ready as it would ever be. It was time.

Mathilda boarded the helicopter with her guards yet again and they took off. The Chinooks took off right behind them; they were slower than the CIA chopper, but they'd have time to catch up. Over the ocean and high into the air they soared. Mathilda watched her view of the coast disappear quickly, and in what seemed like no time at all, the lush Albion forests appeared below them.

"We're landing in that little clearing the children play in." The team leader told her. Mathilda nodded; she knew the place. She waited with fists clenched as the helicopter started to slow down and lower its altitude. Were they there yet? Mathilda knew the hidden path on the ground by heart, but from the air it was impossible to tell.

"We're nearly there. Let's get this done like the boss says." One of them ordered the others. The airship started to slow. And then Mathilda spotted it: a wooden structure down below. The orphanage. Tiffania and all the children. No one was out right now, but she'd always told them, especially Tiffania, to hide if someone came around.

The airship started to descend before touching down on the forest grass. The guards disembarked, and Mathilda followed. As soon as they were all out, the airship took off again, soon leaving all of them standing there in silence.

"Go on." The team leader told her. "Go get them." Mathilda wondered if it was a ruse, but she took a step forward and none of them stopped her. Another step and no one stopped her. She ran to the building. Nothing happened to her as she found the confidence to enter the orphanage.

No one was there, but she could see the signs that there was activity there: toys hurriedly abandoned, and even some half-eaten fruit.. She made her way to the living room before pulling over the rug. The handle was exactly where she remembered it was. As Mathilda pulled on it, she heard screams of surprise from below the floor followed by someone trying to calm them.

"Shh, it'll be fine. I will protect you little ones," a familiar voice said warmly, "The bad people won't hurt you, I promise." Oh, thank Brimir! They were still here!

"Tiffania! It's me, Mathilda!" She called into the darkness.

"Sister?! You have finally returned!"

A young, well endowed blond woman finally climbed out of the hidden cellar. She was dressed in a green dress and had a large sun hat that covered her head and pointed ears.

"It is really you!"

"Yes, Tiffania, I've finally come back." Mathilda said as the two women hugged each other tearfully, "I'm so sorry for having abandoned you and the children for so long!"

The spy glanced quickly behind her sibling. She recognized many of the faces of the children but some were new. No doubt that the instability in the country had rendered them orphans. Tiffania must've taken them in.

"Listen, there isn't much time. I'm taking all of you somewhere safe." Mathilda said urgently, "I've made a deal that will ensure that everyone will be safe."

Tiffania gasped lightly.

"Is that why you were gone for so long? You were searching for a new place for us?"

"Yes." the green haired woman lied, "But we must move quickly."

"Just let the children and I gather our belongings and we will follow you."

"Get the most valuable things that the children care the most about. My new… friends have promised that they will take care of everything that we will need. But we must hurry!" She stepped back and allowed them all to climb out of the cellar. While they did, she peaked out the front door.

"We will be out soon!" she shouted to the team leader who nodded back.

"Make it fast! We don't have all day!"

Tiffania appeared next to her, and Mathilda closed the door as to not let them see her.

"Where will we go?" the half-elf asked.

"Tristain."

Tiffania's eyes widened in surprise.

"But-"

"Just trust me please."

After a few minutes, the children had gathered in the entrance with what few meagre belongings they had while Tiffania did one last head count. She blew a sigh of relief as every child was present. Mathilda opened the door once more.

"Stay behind me, everyone." Mathilda instructed as she led them out. Tiffania caught a glimpse of the friends that her half-sister had brought with her. They were obviously warriors, dressed in what looked like leather armor and wielding muskets. Were they Tristainians?

"Is everyone here?" their leader asked in perfect Albionian.

"Yes."

"Come stand by the tree line behind us." He ordered with a hand gesture. As Mathilda and the children did so, she watched him wave to more men who'd appeared at the other edge of the clearing, right by the building. They waved back, and disappeared into the forests.

"We have the packages, send in the extraction." he radioed.

Within a few moments, loud chopping sounds could be heard as wind buffeted them. Another airship appeared above them, this one far larger than the one that had carried Mathilda here.

It landed in the clearing before a door opened at its back.

"That's your ride to a new life!"

Mathilda nodded as she guided her group towards the waiting aircraft with Tiffania urging some of the more wary children to follow them. A soldier stood on the ramp of the airship, and as the children filed in he helped them to the two rows of seats on either side and got them buckled in. Mathilda and Tiffania came on after the children, and Mathilda's guards right after them. The ramp closed behind them.

The helicopter soon took off. Many of the younger children looked terrified. They'd never been on an airship, let alone one so loud.

"Welcome aboard." the leader said, "We'll be in safe lands very soon."

One of the airship's crewman stood up, a warm smile on his face.

"Don't worry," he said warmly, "You're riding in the safest helicopter! Anyone here wants some treats from my homeland?"

The children's eyes suddenly lit up in surprise. Some things never changed no matter the world.

"Treats?" Tiffania asked.

"Before we left, we gathered something for you and the children to eat on your way back," the crewman said as he produced a bag filled with chocolate bars and opened one, "We call'em chocolate bars." As he grabbed a bite, his crewmate scolded him from the front cabin..

"Yo, that's for the kids!"

"Just wanted to show'em it was safe to eat!" he said as he gave one to Tiffania. Her happy expression was all that it took for the children to want a chocolate bar.

"What do we say everyone?" Mathilda asked in a motherly tone.

A chorus of 'thank you's' filled the cabin with the children soon happily munching their chocolate. Tiffania looked over to Mathilda with a hopeful smile.

"Where did you meet these friends?" the half-elf asked curiously as the helicopter flew. Mathila hid her nervosity well as she explained.

"It's quite a long story," the former spy finally said, "I met them during my work in Tristain."

She had never explained to her half-sister the nature of her work beyond the fact that she'd often travel to the continent. "I will tell you about it later."

"Oh… I see."

The trip continued uneventfully, with the crew handing out water for the children. Finally, the helicopter descended onto one of the landing pads at Clément-sur-Mer.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is the captain speaking. We are now landing at Clément-sur-Mer, Tristain. I hope you've enjoyed your flight."

"Let's get you out of these seats and into your new lives," one of the crewmen said as he started unbuckling the children.

Very soon, the passengers exited from the back of the helicopter onto the tarmac. They were greeted by Colonel Hamilton and Agent Devers.

"Welcome to Clément-sur-Mer! I am Colonel Benjamin Hamilton of the US Army and I am in charge of this facility." he said warmly, "You'll be staying here for the foreseeable future. Next to me is M. George Devers, a man working for my government.

Mathilda did her best not to roll her eyes at how Devers was described so plainly.

"I am Tiffania Westwood," she introduced herself to the two men, "You must be part of the friends that Mathilda has met in her travels."

"I consider myself more of an associate than a friend," Devers replied smoothly, "I am part of the team who helped organise your trip and accommodation here."

"Thank you very much," Tiffania replied.

"You're welcome. I hope you will come to enjoy your stay here." Devers said, "No doubt that you have many questions."

"Yes, indeed. I was thinking that Mathilda could answer them."

The green haired woman shook her head.

"Despite being in the care of these people, I still don't fully understand how they work."

"Don't worry, we will answer any questions you have," the agent said reassuringly, "But first, we wish to make sure that the children and you are all treated to a warm meal."

"Very well. Will you require my help in the kitchen?" Tiffania asked. The two men smiled, but shook their heads.

"It will not be necessary. Please follow me." Devers ordered before he led them across the base to a large building. The Colonel followed behind for a short time, making sure no one fell out of the group. The sights were intriguing for the group. Between the lack of trees, the smooth grey-black surface and the strange constructs that moved around them, the base was a completely different world from their old orphanage in the middle of the woods. Even the men working in the place seemed different from anyone they had seen before. Finally, they arrived at a small building where Devers opened the door, revealing a long table with warm food on it.

"Welcome to your new life everyone!" He declared. "This is all for you." The children had never seen so much food in one place! They all rushed forward to find a seat. Mathilda started after them until Devers grabbed her arm. "You have the rest of the day to catch up." He warned her, his voice low. "But after that, you're going back in a cell. Look on the bright side- you'll only be a short walk away from the children." So, they were keeping her here?

"You upheld your part of the deal, I'll uphold mine." Despite trying to say stoic, her facade broke just the slightest. The children were safe, she reminded herself. She should be thankful she got this much. The spy accepted her word and let go, leaving the room.

"Sister, what was that?" Tiffania asked in concern. She'd been the only one still close enough to see the exchange take place.

"Nothing, sister." Mathilda tried to assure her, but her words were a hollow lie. But she wouldn't complain. To get this far was enough for her, for now.

* * *

A few hours after the successful extraction mission, there was a joint debriefing session for both Trudeau and Trump in their respective office. The mission had gone without a single hitch. They had their own turncoat now, something to look good on the international stage, and something to further their investigations of this new world.

"We have been able to secure blood samples from Miss Westwood," Agent Harper reported over the video call, "A DNA test will tell us just how different Elves are from humans. Judging from her appearance, she looks like she could fit in a Lord of the Rings cast reunion."

There was light snickering from all parties.

"We just need confirm if she's related to the Tristainian Royalty now." Trudeau said.

"That would be unnecessary for now, sir. Officially, she isn't in Tristain and we don't know who she is." the agent replied. "Albionian citizens and Elves are the two things the locals hate the most right now."

"After that screw up with those kids, we don't need to get on the locals' nerves too much," Trump remarked pointedly. Obviously, they'd protest if an enemy agent who'd acted against their Kingdom was allowed back in.

"I don't think the Romalian emissary would take kindly to the news of an elf either." Trudeau mentioned. He was still snooping around Tristain, and the US and Canada were trying to avoid stepping on toes as it were. "We're at risk for irritating a lot of people right now."

"Which is why we are taking precautions in keeping everything secret M. President, Prime Minister," Devers answered, "Until the time is right."

"Good. We don't need any more screw ups. Keep all of them on a tight leash."

* * *

"Teleportation?" Colbert repeated.

"Yes, teleportation," The Earth spy repeated in complete seriousness, "The ability to move from one location to another instantly if you are unfamiliar with the concept."

"I'm afraid that I have never heard of such magic being used successfully," Osmond said as he scratched his beard, "Certain mages in the past have attempted to create such a spell but their efforts have never been successful. Such a feat doesn't correspond with any of the 4 elements of magic."

He, Colbert and Harper were seated in Osmond's office at the Academy today. The teleportation feat that had dampened their kill/capture mission in Albion was still making the top brass irritated. The security concerns were limitless, so they were looking into the matter with the experts.

"How did these experiments end?" Harper asked.

"Quite messily," Old Osmond answered, "At best, the unfortunate mage would be blackened by soot from the magical detonation and in the worst cases, the magical energy tore the mage in question apart. At least that's the commonly accepted hypothesis surrounding the last failed attempt by Arthur de Paragon over 50 years ago."

"Have any of his research survived? Anyone else that might have been able to keep it with them or continued their work?"

Osmond shook his head as he stood up and looked the window of the Academy.

"Arthur de Paragon's experiments failed catastrophically to the point that it destroyed his home and all the research that was ever done. His apprentice was also killed in the explosion. Since then, no other mage has attempted such a feat."

Harper noted down that information.

"Do you have anything in your archives could have anything that can help us?"

"I cannot say," Colbert answered, "But it would possible for you to search them for any evidence of teleportation magic."

"I will arrange for a team to arrive then," Harper said, "There is also another topic I wished to ask you about. It concerns the portal."

Both mages looked at him with curiosity.

"Have your scientists been able to understand its origins?" Colbert asked excitedly but Harper shook his head.

"If anything, we have more questions about it," the agent explained.

"What do you mean by this?" Osmond asked curiously.

"While our forces were crossing the portal during the invasion, we started noticing that it got shorter."

"Shorter?" Colbert inquired. Harper nodded.

"Yes, the time it took to cross was shortened considerably, almost by three quarters. We're still trying to understand it and wanted your insights on this."

But both Tristainians had no answer.

"I'm afraid we are as perplexed as you are on this matter." Colbert replied, "If anything, this is a sign that the Founder has chosen to bless us rather than Albion."

Harper had a hunch where this explanation would head.

"Hmm, that would be a plausible hypothesis," Osmond said, his face narrowing in concentration, "Between the youngest Vallière's Void powers manifesting, the portal, and this most recent miracle, it could be the Founder's divine will intervening to protect his faithful from Heresy."

So, Earth was here only because the God in this world willed it? That was a can of worms waiting to be opened if Harper took it back. It was only a theory at this point though.

Colbert looked pensive as he mulled over this theory.

"With all these happenings, perhaps the Founder has another design for Tristain and even Halkeginia."

"It's an interesting theory." Harper said neutrally, not liking the sound of it. It needn't be said the people of Earth were their own masters, but he didn't say that directly to his hosts. "Thank you for the insight, gentlemen." Harper got up and left. As we walked through the Academy hallways, he jotted down one last note.

 _Void Magic disregards previously understood facts about magic and is widely unknown to even the locals. Void may have a role in the portal and the occurrence witnessed in Albion._

* * *

It was the first time Julio had set foot in an building from Earth, and he was impressed with what he saw. The interior was luxurious, clean and well lit, without a single candle or torch in sight. He had been allowed a quick tour of the Canadian embassy by Ambassador Ambroise before being led to the official's office. Both sat down as a staff member entered the room with a water pitcher and two cups.

"I hope that you've enjoyed your visit Emissary Chésaré," Ambroise said as he dialed a number on his phone.

"Yes, this is an impressive building you have built," the Romalian replied as he sipped some of the cool water, "Will Ambassador Fitzgerald join us soon?"

"I am contacting him right now."

After a few moments, the American ambassador was on a conference call with them. Greetings were quickly exchanged before the subject turned to today's business.

"As we have stated before, our nations wish to enter diplomatic relations with his Eminence." Ambroise stated.

"His Eminence would be very open to such relations. No doubt that he will see the benefits of trading with Earth as being a great boon for the faithful followers of Brimir. He will no doubt want discussions for an 'embassy' in Romalia to be held as soon as possible."

"We are grateful for his Eminence's enthusiasm," Fitzgerald replied, "But we have certain concerns about security and our diplomats."

"You should not fear anything. Romalia is well guarded by many knightly orders made up of the finest battle mages in Halkeginia."

"That isn't the extent of our concerns. I'm sure you saw outside we prefer to have our own guards?" Julio nodded. "There is also the matter of travel. Gallia separates Tristain and Romalia, and we do not feel safe in having to cross a land ruled by an unstable, possibly warmongering ruler, Emissary Chésaré. The absence of a direct, safe route to Romalia makes our leaders rather uncomfortable, to say the least, about having a delegation in Romalia. "

"The words of his Eminence are mighty enough to contain even the _alleged_ madness of King Joseph," Julio argued. Even if it was true that the Gallian king was mad and unpredictable, the Church still had to defend one of Brimir's descendants, no matter how distasteful the person was.

Meanwhile, the ambassadors were trying to figure out if they'd just made a _faux pas_.

"We'd need a direct route for our own airships to be able to reach the embassies. We don't like crossing another realm's territory without authorization from their leaders." Fitzgerald quickly corrected, "And we have been unable to discuss with King Joseph."

"I see." Julio nodded. "Any Romalian flagged airship would be invulnerable when traveling. Are you insistent on using you own?"

"That condition is non-negotiable." Ambroise shook his head.

"Hmm. His Holiness may be willing to make a decree signifying your airships in a way that makes them immune to Gallian scrutiny. They would not dare interfere with them."

"How long would it take to get a decree on the matter?"

"Not very long." Julio assured. "I can send a letter as soon as our meeting is up. The Pope will take my words and recommendation very serious."

"That is reassuring. Although once permission is granted, it will still take us several weeks to get everything together."

"That is acceptable." Julio acknowledged.

"Would it be possible to send an advance party?" Fitzgerald requested. "I'm sure you've noticed, but our airships do not dock in the same way as yours. We'd need to find a proper place in Romalia."

"Such arrangements would be possible."

"Are there any customs that are essential to know when traveling to Romalia? What language is spoken in his Holiness' lands?" Ambroise asked, "We do not wish to offend his Holiness or his people by inadvertently showing bad manners."

"Of course," Julio replied before he explained the various customs that were considered the pinnacle of Romalian etiquette. To his surprise, when he slipped into the Romalian language, they brought in someone who understood and conversed in it with him very well; it was a language that existed in their world too, apparently. Whatever these people's true intentions, they were making it very easy to interact with, and quite pleasant to boot.

Which, as far as the Emissary thought, meant that he had to be on his guard.

* * *

"Alright, we're doing the same thing as first contact here in Tristain." Devers said. A very small group of men and women were gathered inside a conference room at Clément-sur-Mer. These were the agents efficient in Italian that had been brought over near the beginning (the team had been sure to include speakers of all the European languages). The Romalian language actually seemed to be a mix of Italian and old Latin, but they could pick up on the Latin parts. Behind him was a powerpoint with a picture of the Romalian emissary that had come to Tristain.

"This young man is Julio Césaré," Harper explained, "He's young enough to be in college on Earth but don't be fooled by appearances. This man is the right hand of the most powerful man in Halkeginia; Pope Vittorio Serevare."

Notes were being taken as the scribbling of pencils could be heard.

"M. Césaré has been staying in Tristain as a sign of goodwill and spiritual support from the Romalian Papacy. Officially of course." He put a hand up. "We strongly suspect he's observing our activities and making sure that Tristain doesn't leave the Brimiric Church like Albion did. Standard stuff people; nothing to initiate a conflict over." On Earth or here in Halkegenia, the spy game involved letting your opponent still make moves.

"We have gathered some information about Pope Vittorio. Despite his apparent youth and the fact that he got into office because Cardinal Mazarin prefered to stay in Tristain, he is no slouch and has taken his job very seriously for the past few years. He's apparently done some great things to hold everything together down there- he's a competent politician who understands the seedier sides of statehood. There is no doubt that he is behind M. Césaré's presence here." Harper continued.

"The ambassadors have given us an opportunity to scout out the region before our own delegations officially arrive there. We are waiting for clearance and guarantees of safe passage into Romalia."

"Which brings us to our next point: Gallia." Devers said as he changed the Powerpoint slide to reveal a map of the country and its coat of arms of two staves under one crown. "As most of you will know, we inserted agents into Gallia several days ago to monitor their troop movements. We're stretched thin, I admit. But this comes from the very top- we need to secure a safe route to Romalia for diplomatic traffic, and that means being able to know if Romalia can be attacked at any moment. We have no idea what, if anything, is happening at the Romalian-Gallian border, or the Romalian security situation in general. Our historians tell us that they had a bout of infighting only a few generations ago."

Devers changed his powerpoint to show a magnificent city with a palace overlooking it.

"Gallia is also led by an unpredictable king that the local rulers consider to be dangerous. We currently don't know what his intentions towards Romalia or Tristain are. Our intent is to start an seperate intelligence operation targeting Gallia from within Romalia. All of you will be setting up the foundation for that op. Map the local area. Make friends with the border guards and nobles. Keep your ears open for anything unusual in local gossip."

"Discretion is important here." Harper spoke up, "You'll be operating well outside our current support network. A man in the mountains of Afghanistan will be easier for HQ to reach then some of you down there. Most of all: Do not piss off the local clergy. These people are as, if not even more powerful than the Catholic church during its heyday thanks to magic. Probably just as brutal in their persecution of their enemies too."

Every person nodded in understanding. It would be a difficult mission but they had been through worst.

"Our advance party will be departing in three weeks. We'll arrange intensive language classes for you until then. Study those information packets well. And most of all, one last time: _do not fuck this up_."

* * *

It had been over a month now since Albion's assault on Tristain. The sound of engines regularly echoed throughout the countryside as Earth troops worked with the Tristainian armies to secure the war-torn land and help the people. It wasn't just the US, Canada, and UK anymore; UN Peacekeepers had also come across the portal in small numbers. Doctors with food and medical supplies, doing their part to help.

Today, however, was an important day that showed just how much Tristain was back on its feet: the Academy's reopening. Carriages arrived at the entrance, their passengers exiting one by one, many wide-eyed at seeing their school once more. The damaged masonry had been replaced. The grounds replanted. All facets of war had been removed back to the portal. And the student body was now returning, mostly only the Tristainian students, although a fair number from Germania returned too.

Friends and lovers tearfully embraced as they found one another while others wept as they realized what had befallen to some of their friends. In the crowd, a blonde girl was making her around, trying to find someone that, despite his flaws, she cared for.

"Guiche!" Montmorency shouted as she walked around the crowd, recognizing her friends. Some looked as if they had aged much faster in the past few weeks. She spotted a familiar, rotund blond boy.

"Malicorne!"

He turned his head and saw Montmorency run towards him.

"Malicorne! Where is Guiche!?" the Water mage asked urgently before her face dropped, "Tell me that he has not fallen?!"

"Uh-uh Guiche is alive." he stammered.

"Then where is he?" the girl pressed urgently as she grabbed the boy's shirt , "Is he injured?!"

Malicorne shook his head frantically.

"Y-yes and n-no!" he stammered out.

Montmorency's gaze hardened at his incoherent answer.

"How does that make any sense you idiot?!"

"Because he is physically unharmed but his mind isn't," Kirche cut in, silencing both Tristainians. At her side was Tabitha, looking stoic as usual. Montmorency's eyes widened.

"What do you mean?!"

"It's complicated to explain but his mind was 'injured' during the battle-"

"Than where is he?" Montmorency pressed urgently, "Please bring me to him!"

Kirche shook her head.

"When we left the capital, we entrusted him to the Earth soldiers' care. Apparently, they told us that they could heal his mind. He is in one of their hospitals."

"Where is this hospital then?!"

"Just outside the capital," Malicorne said, "B-but I don't think you can really help."

Montmorency glared at him with a look that could freeze a lake.

"What do you mean?" she hissed, "We of the House of Montmorency are unparalleled Water Mages. There are few physical ailments that we cannot heal!"

"That is exactly the problem Montmorency," Kirche answered patiently, "Guiche's body is fine but it is his mind that is injured."

"What wicked magic has done this to him?"

"It's not magic that injured his mind. According to the soldiers we talked to, it was because he saw things he never should have seen and situations that he never should have been in."

"When his… injury first appeared, the soldiers dragged him right away to their healers," Malicorne added encouragingly, "It's as if they knew what exactly this was."

"How can they heal him then?"

"They have many treatments for him but they did not specify which one they would use." Kirche finally said, "You shouldn't worry Montmorency. It looks like as if they knew exactly what happened to him."

"I hope so."

The teens looked around for a moment and could see the hollow expression on some of their classmates. Some moved with uncertainty, their eyes darting around, a far cry from how proudly they walked before the war. Perhaps Guiche was not the only one who had lost his innocence.

* * *

In the Capital, Saito and Louise had spent that month in the castle, under the ever looming threat of Duchess Vallière. As she said, Louise wasn't going to return to the Academy. Rather, her days had been divided up into a strict schedule: wake up, eat, study, eat, practice, eat and sleep.

Sadly, the study and practice parts weren't going very well for her; Louise couldn't for the life of her figure out how to cast Void consciously. She'd try till everyone involved was red in the face with frustration and exhaustion.

Then, much to her surprise, her mother suddenly ordered their return to the family holdings for a few days.

The manor she'd grown up in was a much needed rest for Louise, who'd gotten tired of the spacious Palace in the Capital. But aside from having the first day of their return off to talk to Cattleya, her schedule remained the same.

For Saito, the past days were interesting to say the least and he almost welcomed the change. He managed to get some comfortable quarters… though he had the feeling that they were as far as possible from Louise's bedchambers. He had also had the chance of meeting Cattleya, the soft-spoken middle child of the Vallière family. Unlike his meeting with Éléonore, there was no screaming involved. If anything, Cattleya was rather quite pleasant and seemed rather intrigued by him, occasionally teasing the couple or asking him many questions about his world. Strangely however, whenever Earth came up, there was always someone, either a servant or the Duke or the Duchess, that would steer the conversation away.

Speaking of the parents... Saito had been sparring with the Duke, Louise's father, since the second day here. As well as training with some veterans of the Vallière family army. He was in the middle of a session which the patriarch right now. Their wooden sword clashed in the manor's training room as both men moved around as best they could, the Duke having a clear advantage over Saito despite being far older and not blessed by runes.

"How are you to defend my daughter like that?" the noble asked condescendingly as he swung his training sword, Saito just managing to block it with a own training sword, using only his natural strength; the runes did not work with practice weapons. "Your footwork needs works boy!"

Saito regretted not having taken Kendo when he was in Japan. He was the weakest he'd ever been, and he'd realized something the very first day he got his butt kicked: he was relying on his runes too much. They were the only reason he'd been able to do anything heroic here. He wasn't fit like the Earth soldiers he'd been admiring for the past year. All of those men and women were true warriors. Saito was just a lucky kid with runes that did the work for him. It was like cheats in a video game.

So he'd actually resolved after the first day to take these lessons seriously. But learning how to be an actual warrior was a lot harder then he'd thought it'd be.

"This armour is weighing me down!" Saito shot back as he dodged another blow from the noble, "I don't usually fight with armour on!"

"That is armour befitting your task as guardian of my youngest!" the Duke retorted as he landed a blow on Saito, knocking his breath out and causing him to fall to his knees, "Enough! We will stop for now as you are clearly unable to keep up with me!"

Saito stood right back up, breathing heavily as he kept his sword held in the ready position. The Duke eyed him him intensely before sheathing his own sword.

"You are getting better. Perhaps there is hope for you."

The teen could barely believe it before the older man glared at him.

"Hurry up! It is rude to be late for dinner!"

The two men headed out of the training room to change before heading to the main dining hall. As they arrived, the Vallières women were already seated along servants waiting for them. Éléonore was glaring at him, her disdainful scowl reminding him of their first meeting while Cattleya looked at him with an amused look. Louise, meanwhile, was trying to steal glances at him without being noticed by her mother or oldest sister.

"I am glad that you have been able to make it in time," the duchess said politely, "Your training has gone well?"

"It was productive. There is perhaps a chance that I may be able to make a suitable warrior out of this boy." the duke replied as he made his way to the end of the table. Saito was shown the only empty seat, naturally the one furthest Louise.

"Jerome has informed me that our meal will soon arrive," the duchess said elegantly, "Roasted beef with fresh vegetables."

The duke nodded in understanding. Very soon, the sumptuous meal arrived and the gathered people begin to eat.

"Excuse me M. Hiraga?" Cattleya suddenly said, "Could you indulge my curiosity?"

"Yes, milady?" Saito replied uncertainly, not noticing the Duke and Duchess tensing for a second.

"Would you kindly tell me more about Earth and your home? It seems that every time we speak, we are met with misfortune that prevents us from continuing our conversation."

"Oh euh, what would you like to know?" Saito replied, slightly surprised.

"Do you ever intend of taking my dearest little sister to your home?" she asked sweetly, causing the Duke to almost choke on his wine.

"Well-euh-I don't- Maybe." Saito spluttered out while Louise turned red. Cattleya was smiling as she held back her giggling before coughing.

"If I ever go to his land, I promise I'll find medicine that will heal you!" Louise exclaimed, finally finding her words.

"That's enough Louise!" her father scolded suddenly.

"But father-"

"Your father is right Louise," her mother added, "We have already tried everything we could to help your sister with her illness. We simply do not wish to bring more disappointment to ourselves and Cattleya."

"But you haven't even tried anything yet!" Louise shouted back before she realized what she just did and shrunk into her seat.

"Can I ask you a question?" Saito piped up suddenly.

"What is it?" the duchess asked icily.

"Didn't you see all that Earth has to offer?" he asked, surprising himself, "You did see one of the greatest cities of the United States."

"Yes, New York was truly an amazing city," the Duchess admitted as she remembered the sights, "But I still believe that Earth cannot heal my second daughter's illness."

"Medicine and healthcare are cheap for us." Saito replied, "My brother is studying to be a doctor! Maybe he can help her!"

"You will not speak to Father and Mother in such a way you insolent fool!" Éléonore yelled back, "You truly have no manners!"

The Vallières parents stared down at Saito but before anyone could say anything, Cattleya cleared her throat and caught everyone's attention.

"Father, Mother, I wish to give a chance for Earth's medicine to heal me," she calmly said, "I have heard of their people's immense help to our kingdom and the power that they have brought with them."

"But Cattleya…"

"My decision is final," she cut off, "Will you help me or not with this matter?"

The parents finally relented with the Duke sighing.

"We will assist you in this endeavour," he reluctantly agreed.

The meal continued awkwardly to say the least with Cattleya asking questions about Earth while her parents hid their conflicting emotions behind a mask. Saito did his best to answer them truthfully… he did not want to repeat his mistakes during the meeting he had with Henrietta and Louise all those months ago.

After the meal concluded, the Duke and Duchess left for their quarters. Their mood was somber as they discussed the elephant in the room.

"Karen, do you truly believe that Cattleya could be healed by our allies?" the duke asked with uncertainty. It was a truly private moment; the two nobles never used their first names in public or even in front of their children.

"I do not know Centurion," she replied almost sadly, "Part of me wishes for success and hopes that their medical science can heal them. I have seen what their world is like and it is impressive."

Her mind raced back to recent memories as she glanced to a picture of their delegation in front of the majestic Trump tower. They felt so small compared to Earth during their visit despite having visited two cities and countries whose history was tiny compared to their kingdom's long and rich one.

"Even Romalia would be humbled by their cities' grandeur and I do not doubt that they have an understanding of matters that we do not. Perhaps there is hope for her."

"We've never traded with these people before." The Duke was right; the Vallieres' had kept their existing business contracts and not really expanded. They had not even bought any substantial merchandise from those realms. "The only craft I've seen from these people is war."

The duchess nodded in agreement as she looked out the window overlooking their lands. They were well-developed for both were skilled administrators but they paled in comparison to what the duchess witnessed on Earth.

"They are a talentuous people," she finally admitted, "No doubt that we can learn from them if we trade."

"Perhaps their talents in healing could finally our dear Catt. During the Siege of Tristainia, a great many of their healers came into the city on their airships to help treat our wounded. I saw them heal grievous wounds that even a skilled Water Mage would need immense focus and effort to mend."

"I saw too." His wife nodded. There had been wounded everywhere in those bloody streets, and with many water mages fighting, killed or overstretched by the massive casualties, medical attention had not been forthcoming to most of them. Many of them would have died as they would have been simply beyond the capabilities of Water Magic by the time the battle died down yet were able to be healed by their allies' field hospitals.

"Perhaps there is hope for her," she continued, "Perhaps she may finally live a normal life."

The duke nodded.

"But I dread what will happen if they too fail…Talented healers or not, they still do not understand magic." They had no way to be sure if their daughter's illness was magical in nature, but it was a strong possibility given how no matter how much magic they used, it didn't work.

Both parents also knew that their second daughter's optimism was almost limitless… yet they feared that another failure, this one being built on so much hope, would probably would finally break her dream of living a healthy life. It was something they did not want to face.

They'd put their faith into the Earth countries during the war and it had worked out for them… Maybe it would this time too.

* * *

During one of Saito's outside training sessions with the Duke, the Duchess had come to watch after sending Louise up to her room to study in solitary. Agnes had arrived earlier that day with a package for the young mage. Contained within it had been a small gift and a note from Queen Henrietta. It was the Water Ring of Tristain, one of the most holy relics of the Founder that was entrusted to his Tristainian heirs. The little note was fairly short.

 _To my dear Louise-Françoise_

 _May this gift help you in your endeavours._

 _Henrietta_

Louise had held the item in her hand with uncertainty at first. Would this really help her master the Void? It was an item of the Founder just like her magic and the Prayer Book, but she could fathom how it would help. But she still put it on her finger and stood there, expecting that simple act might usher in some revelation. But nothing did. Her mother had suggested it may grant her clarity of mind and sent her upstairs.

Now the Valliere Matriarch watched with undisguised contempt as the Saito boy tried to duel her husband, succeeding at only the very basics of sword combat. The Queen herself had confirmed the exploits of her daughter and her familiar, but she saw little evidence of it here. It was the runes, everyone insisted. But both her and her husband believed in the value of natural skill alongside the Founder's gifts. That's why they were both skilled warriors in their own rights along their impressive talents in their respective elemental magic.

During another spar, the boy only managed to last about forty seconds before being disarmed. On the next attempt, he was knocked down even quicker. His footwork was sloppy, he was not using his weight properly, and even the way he held his sword was wrong. Just watching him gave the Duchess a headache.

A hard blow by her husband knocked the boy on his back where he struggled to get up with his armor. "This is progress?" She asked her husband, coming up beside him while Saito did his best impression of a turtle.

"Compared to when we started." He affirmed. Saito finally pulled himself up, panting in exertion from the effort.

"Stand up again." Lady Valliere commanded. "In war, an enemy won't give you time to rest." Saito growled in annoyance. Yeah, he was committed to bettering himself, but the constant beratement and failure was starting to annoy him greatly. "Keep your emotions in check." She commanded again. "Do not let an enemy read you."

"I can't fight in armor like this," he shot back in annoyance, "And I can't learn like this! The runes help me fight with a real weapon! I'm sure I can even beat you with my own sword!"

The duchess' eyes narrowed menacingly. The temperature suddenly got colder.

"Is that so?" she finally asked after a few long seconds of silence. There was a mix of contempt and annoyance in her voice as she stared down Saito. To his credit, he didn't flinch as much.

"Go get your sword." she ordered simply, "With all haste. Prove your boasts true for once or else cease with them altogether."

"Fine, I accept!" Saito finally shot back, surprising the two adults.

"So be it, boy. Go prepare yourself." With that, the Duchess turned and strode away. Saito was still burning with anger, until he realized the Duke looked frightened. Actually terrified.

"You're a fool, boy." He said quietly.

"Whatever." Saito blew off the warning. He unstrapped the armor and let it fall where he stood before running into the house to get Derf. He was already feeling more limber and confident without all that steel on.

"Where we going, partner?" The sword asked when Saito hastily grabbed him from a corner of the room and ran back downstairs. Saito explained what had just happened. "I might be just a sword, but I don't think that's how you get in your in-laws good graces!"

"I don't care. I'm going to prove to them that I'm good at fighting with the runes!"

A few moments later, Saito had returned with his sword. The duchess stood ready in the middle of the yard with her swordwand out, decked out in the full suit of armor he'd seen her wearing during the siege. The Duke had retreated a far distance away from either of them, shaking his head in disapproval. Saito walked out and stopped opposite Louise's mother.

"This will be a simple affair." She explained. "Each of us will retreat to the end of the yard. You will close in and attempt and lay a single blow on me while I attempt to stop you. If you fail, then you will stop your incessant whining once and for all."

Saito cracked his knuckles before drawing out Derflinger.

"Bring it on." He stomped over to the end of the yard.

"You know partner, I don't think she sees this as a game." His sword warned, only to fall on deaf ears. The Duchess waved her weapon in a matter that said 'begin', and Saito started rushing forward. Everything felt natural and easy. And then suddenly a gust of wind hit him in the front. He tried to power through it, shielding his face with a free arm, but his run soon stopped as he had to plant both feet firmly on the ground just to not fall back.

The Duchess hadn't moved from her original spot, and Saito could imagine the look of contempt on her face all the way from here. He tried to take a small step forward, but just lifting one foot slightly off the ground nearly sent him flying backwards. He had to slam Derf into the ground just to give him better footing.

"Told you!" The sword yelled over the howling wind, "Hold me up!"

Saito parried with Derflinger, the blade absorbing the duchess's spell but the seasoned warrior had already cast another spell, buffeting the teenager.

* * *

Unaware of the battle taking place, Louise was still upstairs going over the Prayer Book, no better off then she had without the ring. She tried everything she could think of: pressing it against the pages, switching it to different fingers, even adjusting how far it was up her fingers. All of it was fruitless.

She was about to tear her hair out in frustration. She was a Void Mage! How hard could this be. She'd done it once before, what did she need to do to pull it off again? She shook her head furiously while gripping strands of her hair. Suddenly, she heard one of her windows creak.

Louise got up to investigate, half out of concern and half out of a reason to not have to look at the Prayer Book any longer. When she got to the window, she cried out in shock. She could see her mother and Saito having their duel in the yard below, but Louise didn't have the context; all she saw was her boyfriend in very real danger of getting blown away. Her mother was casting her powerful wind magic while Saito was trying to use Derflinger to claw his way forward. This was simply too much for Louise to watch as she ran out of her room, grabbing the Prayer Book in her hands.

"Where are you going?" Mother had posted her sister to watch her, but Louise ran right past her. "Where are you going?! Louise!" Éléonore chased after her, their rapid footsteps resonating in the manor.

As she ran out, she saw Saito getting pushed back by yet another powerful burst of Wind Magic. The teen grit his teeth as the runes shone brightly on his hand. As she drew closer, Louise felt power emanating from the Prayer Book and the Water Ring. Something compelled her to open the book. As she did so, glowing runic writing appeared in its hallowed pages. For some unknown reason, Louise was able to understand these strange runes as the words to a spell began to imprint themselves in her mind. She began chanting the words, magical energy coursing through her body as she raised her wand and pointed it at the gusts of wind. A blue streak of light exited her wand.

The effect was immediate. The wind stopped, almost instantaneously. Lady Valliere was left standing there stunned with her wand out, not seeing Louise and not immediately understanding what had happened. But Duke Valliere had, as had Éléonore ,and even Cattleya from a manor window. The former two's mouths were agape in shock. Upstairs, Cattleya smiled to herself as she petted her animals. Even Louise seemed stunned by what she'd done.

"Louise!" Saito spotted her and ran to her. "That was Void, wasn't it?!" He asked excitedly. "You did that on your own, right?" He grabbed her shoulders. She was still too shocked to answer, and Saito watched her face shift to fear and her eyes follow something behind him. The clanking of armor warned Saito of the arrival of Karin the Heavy Wind, the most powerful conventional mage in Tristain.

"Louise, what have you just done?"

"Mother, I think...I think I learned a Void Spell," she stammered back, "The Founder's Prayer showed me the words for a spell called _Dispel_."

There was a glimmer in her mother's eyes of surprise… and hesitant pride. It disappeared quickly however as her facade returned. Her father stood nearby, his gaze inscrutable.

"We must test this spell." her mother said simply, "Stand over there."

The duchess pointed to a nearby clearing. Louise walked there, her mother following beside her. The Vallière matriarch began to chant.

Saito had thought she hadn't been holding back against him. He was wrong. The wind began to howl, much stronger than what Saito had to endure. The Duke was bracing himself on one of the porch's giant supports, and Saito quickly clutched onto one himself to keep from flying away. The window shutters on the house started to rattle. Mother and daughter's pink hair whipped around wildly, the child doing her best not to flinch while the parent stood straight and proud. Soon all Saito could hear was the roaring of wind as a dark tunnel began to form. This was not a spell for practice-this was a spell for war. Even her earlier spells that he struggled against were nothing compared to this. The Tokyo teen realized just how lucky he had been… the duchess really had held back when it was his turn.

Louise stood stiff and fearful opposite her mother, but she had not been blown away yet. Her wand was still at her side even as her mother waved her's around; she hadn't directed anything at her daughter yet. "Louise, come on!" Saito shouted. He couldn't hear himself and Louise surely wouldn't be able to either, but he still tried. "You can do it!" His feet started to slip out from under him.

Maybe Louise had heard him. Or maybe she sensed his confidence in her from a distance. Maybe even she had a internal revelation. Whatever it was, the small pinkette raised her wand and started to chant. It was a drawn out process. Her mother could've easily directed enough force to disrupt her, but she held off, waiting to see what would happen.

It became apparent that something was building from Louise, a blue light, and then it erupted from her wand. This time, Lady Valliere felt her focus being immediately snapped. The wind she'd summoned vanished in an instant. Even though it had taken time, Louise had completely blunted a square-class wind attack.

Louise fell to her knees in exhaustion but held her head high.

"You have finally casted your first successful spell Louise." her mother said, an rarely seen look of amazement gracing her face, "You may rest until supper."

The duke made his way over with a similarly impressed look while Éléonore's jaw had dropped. From her window, Cattleya's face beamed with pride and joy at her youngest sister's greatest success.

"Well done Louise," he said curtly as he pulled her up.

"Thank you father, thank you mother," she said tiredly as Saito looked at her with a grin.

"I told you that you were awesome."

"Boy, take her to her quarters," the duke ordered, "She needs rest. And then we will resume training." Impressive as that had been, Louise had been vulnerable for a noticeable amount of time. Couldn't have that, could they?

That night, the meal was made up of Louise's favorites.

* * *

A long convoy of wagons and carts creaked down a paved road. Siesta glimpsed around as she looked around the countryside. It looked so peaceful, so beautiful and she found it hard to believe that there had been a war here a few weeks ago. The carnage she had seen before the Academy would remain in her memory forever. It was astonishing how fast the cleanup had been once the fighting died down but it still wasn't safe for her and her family to return to Tarbes until now. Looters and deserters still marauded the countryside and the soldiers had forbidden them from entering the town till the threats was dealt with. Soldiers walked alongside them even now while heavier vehicles kept an eye out from trouble. Occasionally, some would hand out little treats to the children or chat a bit with the Tristainians.

"Papa?" she asked her father that was next to her.

"Yes?"

"Do you believe what they say about Tarbes?" Siesta said as her mother looked up, "That it's been completely destroyed?"

Her father sighed, not wanting to answer that question.

"I don't think anyone would lie about that. Our lord and his family are dead. The lands are back under the Crown's authority." he finally let out grimly, "We should soon see Tarbes."

The convoy was slowly climbing a hill, finally reaching the top after a few moments. Shocked, gasps, sobbing and cries of horror were heard all over as the refugees saw the burnt out ruins of Tarbes. Their homes and livelihoods were little more than charred debris and broken masonry. The small chapel was little more than a pile of collapsed bricks and stones. Siesta remembered all the things that made this place home. The market, the summer fairs and the streets where she would play with her family and friends were all but gone.

"By the Founder…" her mother whispered, tears streaking down her face as she braced herself against her husband. After a few moments, the group entered the ruined town. People began to move to where their homes and shops once were, hoping to salvage anything. Her family made their way to their destroyed house. Her mother and siblings were crying as they had lost everything that they had while her father struggled to remain strong for them. Siesta wiped the tears that flowed down her face.

"Monsters…" her father muttered darkly as he looked at the remains of his home, "But we will rebuild this home. We'll rebuild Tarbes too."

Everyone looked at him.

"The money we made from selling the Dragon's Raiment. I can see no other use for it. No doubt that grandfather Takeo would be proud to see the money used that way."

* * *

Guiche awoke from his slumber, having enjoyed a more peaceful sleep since the end of the battle. Unlike many others, he hadn't returned to the Academy. At first it had been to recieve medical treatment. The soldiers had gotten him the best of care for his illness, introducing him to a psychologist, a mind healer of sorts. Something they called PTSD, an affliction that many former soldiers suffered according to the psychologist that had taken care of him. He forgot most of the details surrounding it but it was basically his mind reacting to a traumatic near-death experience. It was something that would require treatment but was not unmanageable. Apparently, it could be treated to such an extent that he could even fight once more.

The blond noble was going over his thoughts. The past few weeks had been intense, having seen his mother die and being thrown into an unrelentless, merciless battle. Now that things were going back to normal, it took some getting used to, something he was discussing with his psychologist. While he had those appointments, Guiche was still in the service of his father's army, which was helping the efforts in Tristain still. They had to affirm their dedication to the Queen, obviously.

His father entered the room just after Guiche had donned his uniform, flanked by some of his guards and servants, one carrying a warm breakfast. Marshall Grammont had a gruff expression on his face that seemed forced- a father struggling between talking to his son and a subordinate.

"Guiche, my son, I hope you are doing well today." he asked.

"I am faring better father."

The man smiled a bit as he sat on a nearby chair.

"I am pleased to hear that, Guiche," he said before stiffening up, "I have finally set a date for your mother's funeral."

Guiche's head bowed down slightly as he processed the information.

"When, father?"

"In two weeks exactly."

The teen sighed. It was inevitable but he always shoved it to the back of his mind.

"But there is something else that has been brought up to me while I was meeting with our allies." his father continued, "About your heroic actions during the battle."

Guiche couldn't understand what his father. Many of his men had died under his command.

"What is this about?"

"Do you remember when you fought and defeated Oliver Cromwell?"

His eyes went wide as he tried to remember. The pieces fell into place.

"That man in green robes was Oliver Cromwell?!"

"Yes and you were the one to capture him. Even if he's still in a deep sleep." The man scoffed disdainfully. "Her Majesty will award you with the title of Chevalier for your deeds that day while Emissary Chésaré will speak to his Eminence about your defeat of a heretical leader. Our allies wish to reward you as well with medals for your efforts."

"What?!"

"Yes, they wanted to know if you wish to accept them. In their words, you would be amongst the first in Halkeginia the be decorated with their decorations for valour and military service."

Guiche felt overwhelmed. The rewards was not something he expected. It was incredible for him. The prestige and honour that it would bring to him and his family. No doubt that his name would go down in history as a great hero.

Yet, part of him didn't feel deserving of them. He had lost many of his men due to his recklessness and his defeat of Cromwell had been nothing short of a stroke of luck. He had almost gotten himself killed because he let his guard down. Was he really worthy of such reward?

"I don't know if I should accept them Father."

His father seemed to be taken aback with this.

"But why?"

"Because I wasted the lives of my men, your men with my recklessness! I almost got myself killed because I wasn't careful!"

His father sighed before his face softened.

"This was not a normal battle Guiche. It was a cruel twist of fate that your first battle be one that was so desperate and difficult. Those men knew what we were facing. Do not tarnish their memory and sacrifice by refusing these awards. These medals will commemorate what they have done during the battle my son."

Guiche mulled over his father's words for a few moments before he came to a decision.

"I will accept them."

* * *

That same morning, by sheer coincidence, another figure had awoken from his long medical-induced coma even thinner than he'd gone into it as. It was dark and the air was damp. A strange numbness caused him to raise his right arm. Cromwell yelled out in surprise, his voice hoarse and weak, as he remembered his last conscious moments. A sword flashing through the air, an eruption of pain as he saw blood and his right hand falling to the ground.

"Well good morning M. Cromwell!" a voice cheerfully exclaimed from the other side of a heavy door, "I hope you slept well." Cromwell looked to see what had to have been an outworlder; his armor was too unusual to be anything else.

"Who are you!? Where am I?!" he asked, panic evident in his voice. He tried to rise from his bed and found himself very weak. So weak, standing up nearly caused him to collapse. He stumbled over to the bars, holding onto them tightly to keep himself up.

"You're in the finest jail cell of all Tristain," the man mocked, "I'm just a guard here."

"Release me or…"

The sentence died in the man's mouth as he realized how powerless he was.

"What? Can't really do much without your little ring, can you?" Another figure spoke up. As Cromwell's eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see over half a dozen standing in the underground prison, all staring at him now. Most were outworlders, but three women looked like part of the Queen's Army.

"The man who overthrew a Blessed Realm… I didn't expect him to be such a frail and sickly little man." One of the women had clearly been waiting for a chance to make that insult.

"So spook, you going to go tell command he's up?" One outworlder asked another.

"Yeah. They'll want to know." One of them, who was dressed different from the one he'd just conversed with, approached the cell. "Sit tight, Mr. Cromwell. And try not to annoy our MPs too much- they don't like it. I believe Queen Henrietta will be down to speak to you shortly." With that, the man left.

"You're lucky that her Majesty has decided to show you some mercy." One the Tristainian guards sneered. "After all you've done, the first thing we wanted to do was hang your unconscious body in front of the Palace gates."

Cromwell couldn't believe what he heard. Mercy? It had to be a trap of some kind.

"Our allies have convinced her that there are other ways to humiliate and punish you M. Cromwell. You should be thankful." She went on.

"Yeah, well," One of the outworlders grinned deviously under his helmet. "It wouldn't be any fun just letting you get lynched by a crowd."

Cromwell paled as he remembered the weapons they had brought to bear on his armies.

There was no doubt that they had far more advanced means of torture.

"I am Brimir's chosen. You cannot do this to me!"

"Are you? We'll let you out when Brimir comes down here and says so." The outworlder mocked him before he faked coming to a great revelation, "Funny that you say that though. If Brimir really gave a shit about your little temper tantrum, you wouldn't be in a jail cell, missing a hand."

"The Republic will not stand for this!" he declared, trying to intimidate his captors but he was met with rambunctious laughter.

"With what army?" another one taunted through his laughter, "All your forces are gone. Either dead or prisoners. If they wanted to save you, they would've tried the whole month you were unconscious."

A month? Had he been asleep for that long? Impossible!

"Germania has already talked to the Queen about a joint invasion of Albion." One of the Tristainians told him. Cromwell felt cold horror starting to seep into his heart.

Heavy footfalls started to sound from somewhere close by, and the guards all immediately became silent and stood straight.

Cromwell could make out light as he saw the newcomer approach his cell, flanked on all sides by guards. Her regal bearing was unmistakable despite her young age: Queen Henrietta. Her face was hard and unreadable as she stared down the captured man.

"I'm almost disappointed you didn't perish from your injuries." She sniffed disdainfully. "Do you have anything to say in your defense, M. Cromwell?" she asked harshly. Cromwell's nostrils flared at her arrogance.

"Fool! Do you not know that I am the chosen of Brimir!?"

"Really? Me a fool and you the Founder's chosen? How bold of you to say that as you are rotting in a dungeon in a foreign kingdom."

"It is only a matter of time that my followers reach you and make you suffer for your insolence! You will fall just like the foolish Tudors. Like your cousin you loved so dearly!"

The Queen's face faltered for a moment, and Cromwell grinned in satisfaction.

Henrietta's gaze hardened as she drew her sword from its sheath. The former leader of Albion shrieked and cowered as the end of the blade was directly in front of his nose, a phantom pain suddenly flaring up where his hand had once been. He backed further into his cell. The outworlders looked on in what looked like concern.

"Your vile tongue isn't even fit to utter their names." The Queen seemed to regain herself. "Be grateful that I have stayed my hand yet again."

Seeing no response from him, Henrietta continued.

"As expected of a coward that could only strike with an assassin's blade," she said haughtlingly as she sheathed her sword and walked away.

"I hope that you enjoy your comfortable new home. It may be your last," Henrietta coldly added as she exited the jail with her guards.

"What are you going to do?!" Cromwell called after her. He got no answer. He yelled the same question at his guards, but none of them would answer him either. No matter how much noise he made, no one responded to him. He was that insignificant in their eyes. Cromwell gave up after the yelling threatened to make him faint.

In the following days, he'd be just as quiet as when he'd been comatose.

* * *

As the sun set, a lone figure stood on a balcony, glass of wine in hand. Dressed in regal blue robes and a cape, King Joseph of Gallia looked over the crown jewel of his kingdom, Lutèce, from the Palace of Versailles that towered over the city.

Below him, he could see the slowly dimming lights as his subjects ended their daily routines and how small they were compared to him. They feared him and that fear kept Gallia obedient to his every whim. He was greater than all of them in every way.

Yet the Mad King could not enjoy any of it. His musings were suddenly interrupted by soft footsteps coming from behind.

"Welcome back Sheffield. Your late return means that your travels have been quite productive. A whole year, am I not mistaken?"

"Yes master. A great many interesting things have come to pass." she reported as she took a knee before him, "I carry news from Albion and about the outworlders with me."

"Please serve yourself." King Joseph said as he pointed to his bottle of wine, "No doubt that you are quite thirsty from your travels." Sheffield nodded and took a glass for herself. "Word has already reached Gallia about the power these outworlders wield and the battle that happened. Tristainia lying in ruin. Over 100,000 dead across Tristain and Albion. The White Kingdom doomed to fall into disarray." Despite the apocalyptic scenario the man had just recalled, he remained stoic, his tone uncaring, only interested in the way his wine swirled in its cup. "Are they true?"

"That fool left with an army 70,000 strong. The number of dead is likely greater. The outworlders have also struck back at Albion with their airships, destroying many of the military ports and what few warships remained. They even tried to capture me." She smirked to herself as she remembered the look in her would-be captor's eyes.

"Fools. They do not know what true power is." Joseph chuckled as he sipped some of his wine. A fine one too.

"Yes, they have also eliminated many of Cromwell's little lackeys and Albion is now leaderless. The fool is rotting away in one of their cells."

"It was entertaining while it lasted." The King shrugged simply. That venture had failed. No point to think about it now. "The nobles have been incessantly bugging me," Joseph revealed, not caring about Albion or Cromwell anymore, "about their troops on our borders."

"They have been able to move rather quickly by using powerful constructs." Sheffield explained, "The rebuilding of Tristainia is going well with their intervention despite them maintaining garrisons on the borders. I stayed for some time to observe."

"Do you know anything about their troops on the border?"

"Very little beyond that they are equipped with powerful, horseless war wagons."

"I see. Our little projects are going quite well so we should not have to fear anything once they are done."

"Have you received any words from little Charlotte?" Sheffield asked. There was clear mockery in the last two words she spoke.

"My dear niece has been quite busy recently. Her letters have been interesting to say the least."

"Oh? Do tell me."

"It seems that Charlotte has been able to meet with some of the outworlders at the Academy and that she even accompanied them on an expedition to recover a relic from their world before the war started."

This caught Sheffield's interest.

"A relic?"

"Apparently, an airship that was lost to them nearly a century ago," Joseph stated, "It was hidden near Tarbes. Do you think this relic came from the same world that the 'Staff of Destruction' that Fouquet tried to steal?"

The familiar mused over the information for a few seconds.

"It would be possible. The weapons they have brought to bear against Albion were impressive and plentiful."

"She was also present at the capital during the siege and witnessed first hand how their weapons were able to completely rout Albion's forces despite being much fewer in number."

"No doubt that she has written about them in her letters."

"Yes, that and we both know that the outworlders have a small outpost not far from the Academy." Joseph added, "Where they have set up trade and are giving aid to the locals under the watchful eyes of their soldiers."

Sheffield smiled as she realized the opportunity while Joseph closed his eyes for a moment. Things were starting to look more interesting for them.

"Let us hope that little Charlotte will interact more with these outworlders," he finally said.

* * *

You always had to move forward and never let the past hold you back. Tristain had won its war. It was still being rebuilt, but it was well on its way to being back to normal. Or maybe even better. Henrietta still had an invested interest in improving things for her subjects, noble and commoner.

The doors to the throne room swung open as Ambassador Ambroise and Fitzgerald entered followed by a group of well-dressed people.

"Welcome to the Royal Court of the Blessed Realm of Water," Henrietta announced as the group of newcomers bowed before the Queen.

"It is an honour for us to be present your Majesty," the leader of the group said, barely able to hide her excitement, " I am Dr. Fatima Mahmoud, Urbanist. My team of city planners are more than enthusiastic at helping rebuild your capital. It is a challenge that we wish to vanquish."

"Tristainia's Earth mage engineers were quite impressed at the images of your cities and are looking forward to building a city worthy of being our kingdom's capital." Henrietta replied as she introduced a well dressed noble, "Count Jean de Bonnefoi is the Mayor of Tristainia."

"Pleased to meet you," the tanned woman said politely before she introduced the various members of her team. The team of urbanists were the first team of experts that were part of the joint modernization efforts. Other groups would be arriving in the days to come. Architects, engineers, biologists but also doctors, administrators and teachers.

Despite the presence of various science teams before the war, modernization had taken its time and faced stiff resistance outside of the farms… but now, a lot had to be rebuilt from the ground up. And with the needs of the people of Tristain having skyrocketed, there was no greater opportunity than now. Henrietta wanted Tristainia to glow and awe all who visited. For its citizens to be well off. For it to be a crowl jewel in all of Halkegenia even, that would never let itself be tarnished by the horrors of war.

They were big aspirations, some too big to be practical. But Henrietta was determined to bring her kingdom into the future. The urban planners and the count had finally left, agreeing to meet the next day when a messenger entered the room. He bowed before his Queen.

"Your Majesty, I bring good tidings. Our first shipment of wood for ship construction has arrived," he reported.

"Thank you for informing me." she replied. The Tristainian Navy needed its new ships as only one ship had survived the crucible of war. However, there were still many sailors and naval officers without ships that yeared for vengeance for what had happened to their doubt that they wanted to be back on the decks of a warship soon. Tristain would rebuild her Navy. Perhaps not as big as before, but they still had the training America and Canada had given them. It would come back, and it would come back strong. She was determined.

And very soon, so would their Army.

* * *

Life has an odd way of getting back on track. The Academy had reopened and classes had been resumed for the last few days. Students went to classes and got into the usual shenanigans that only teenagers could like nothing had ever changed. There was, in fact, a significant change though: explosions no longer rocked the premises on a daily basis. The Zero and her familiar were gone. Rumours ran wildly around the school. Some believed that she had died. Others said that her failures were too much and that the war had been used as an excuse by her family to finally pull her out of the Academy. Wilder rumours had claimed that her familiar and her had done certain debauched acts… and that they were expecting a child!

None of it was true as a pair of foreign students both knew the truth. Kirche and Tabitha had kept quiet about seeing them alive and well in the battle. Saito was an outworlder too, so they must've been up to something important. The two girls were sitting in their class with Professor Chevreuse. The Earth mage was wrapping up today's lesson before a knock was heard.

"Enter!" she said warmly as the door opened, revealing two people dressed in combat uniforms, though without their body armour. "Ah, yes. Students!" She addressed her class again. "The school has been talking with the Earth nations on something we believe may be helpful to some of you."

"Thank you professor for allowing us to be here," a Canadian woman said, "We will wait for you to finish before we talk to your class."

Chevreuse nodded before she finished her explanations and gave out the assignments for her next class, with certain students groaning. The usual routine.

"Good afternoon everyone, I am Kathy Lebel from the Canadian Army and this is my counterpart, Ethan Fleeger of the US Army. We are from the Medical Services of our armies and are here because your Headmaster has been quite worried about many of you since the end of hostilities."

"We will be offering psychological aid for all staff and students in the Academy." Fleeger explained with a hospitable tone in his voice, "What is psychological aid you may ask?"

"War can be very damaging to minds. We know this very well in our world. You may have trouble sleeping, or you might be paranoid about threats. These are normal reactions. You may think it's admirable to hide these things and look strong, but these are serious health issues. There's no reason to hide these issues and always the bravest thing a soldier can do is admit it." Lebel continued, "Our teams will offer to heal your minds so that you may return to your homes and fully enjoy the peace. We will also ensure 100% confidentiality so no one will know that you have met with us."

After the pair gave details where to meet them and set appointments, class was dismissed. Excited chatting could be heard in the group of students as the moment they had awaited this entire week had come: the field trip to the trade station.

"I can't believe we'll be able to buy some of the goods from Earth again!" Malicorne exclaimed happily as he walked the class, "I can't wait to get some of the foods they have. Or medicine like they talked about in class." The student body had enjoyed going to the trading post before the war had broken out, and now that it had finally reformed they were eager to resume doing what had quickly become a favorite pastime of school students and staff alike.

"Those are not the same kind of goods." Montmorency explained, rolling her eyes at his gluttony. She knew what that really was; Guiche had often talked to her about it on some days she travelled all the way to visit him. It had done wonders for him, although he was still far gone at some moments. Just a few days ago, she'd been talking about the Earth soldiers still stationed in her family's domain on the Lake shore before she realized he'd been spaced out for the past several minutes.

She wouldn't admit it… but sometimes, she still heard the cries of the wounded in her sleep and could sometimes see the injured being hauled through the halls of the Academy. Maybe she would see these 'mind healers' in private.

The students made their way out of the Academy, with some mounting their familiars to ease the transit to their destination. A lot of them were talking about various menial things, but a lot of them had the same thoughtful looks on their faces as Montmorency had had.

Once they had arrived and managed to enter the trading post, their thoughts changed as they saw the various prefabricated steel buildings with gaudy signs on them, just like they'd remembered. They were neatly arranged in rows, with MP's patrolling and guiding trucks around; law enforcement in the trading post was provided by the Armed Forces of the three nations.

"Come on Tabitha! I want to see what are the new clothes!" Kirche happily said as she pulled the quiet mage with her, "Maybe they have some books you'll like!" The duo headed towards a clothes shop, the Germanian hoping to find something new to wear. The pair could see filled racks and a few mannequins, no doubt sporting the latest fashion on Earth. Clerks were helping customers choose their clothes either from the store racks or catalogues at a special orders desk.

"I'll head to the bookstore," Tabitha quietly said as she left the busy store.

"We can meet outside later Tabitha!" Kirche replied as she looked over a black blouse. The Gallian nodded as she exited, making her way to the bookstore she knew by heart. Looking around, Tabitha could see some of the Academy kitchen staff, led by Chef Marteau, entering what seemed to be a food store, chatting about the new foodstuffs that came from Earth. A few steps from there, was a bookstore which Tabitha went into. She could see shelves of books, all neatly classed by different genre, both fiction and non-fiction while an employee was unboxing a new shipment and placing them on a shelf. Throwing a quick glance, she could make out the titles and covers of the books being placed. ' _Common Ground_ ' was being placed on the shelf next to ' _Art of the Deal_ '. Tabitha made out the faces of the Canadian and American leaders on those books. She also heard the familiar voice of Professor Colbert talking with one of the Earth professors. Both men were waiting at the counter while an employee had gone in the back to fetch a special order for Colbert.

"I hope that this new book will help get some insight for our experiments, Jean," the Gallian mage overheard.

"His approach is quite fascinating. I believe that it might help overcome the latest issues we've had on our projects."

Tabitha continued browsing the alleys, looking over the titles and genres. A few had caught her attention as she picked them out. Their three covers were wildly different. One had a golden ring with strange engraving on it, another had a dark haired boy flying on a _broomstick_ of all things and the final one had bold yellow writing and had what appeared to be a man with demonic yellow-orange eyes with red and black skin. The writers on Earth had clearly a lot of imagination. Continuing her little excursion, she ended up in a section called _Japan_.

' _Wasn't that where Saito was from?'_ she mused as two soldiers were browsing next to her. The covers on these books were far more eye catching than the others with their bright colours and characters.

"Bro, check this out!" one of the soldiers exclaimed as he held one of the books up. "I remember this shit from a few years ago!"

"Man… this is just too fucking funny!" the other said as he laughed. Tabitha looked at the copies that were still on the shelf and picked one up. The cover had a group of people, including one dressed similarly to the Earth soldiers standing in front of a massive red dragon. In the background, she could make out an elf and a strange gate-like structure. What caught her attention was the blue haired mage with a staff that looked alot like her.

"Ah, you don't want to read that." One of the soldiers told her. "It's a stupid ass story."

"That bad?"

"Yeah. The first few chapters are good but it turns to shit fast. It's kind of like things here: some magical portal connects our world to a different one." Tabitha's interest was piqued. "But like I said, it gets stupid really fast."

"Oh."

"Bah, there's a few good ones here if you want to know." The soldier said, pointing to another one on a nearby.

"That one's shit too man." the other said.

"Man, fuck you, it's a freaking classic."

"Yeah… a classic example of shit!"

"What is good?" the Gallian asked neutrally. Both men turned their heads at the same time

"Glad you asked little lady!"

Tabitha would quietly spent the next ten minutes being passionately lectured by the two soldiers on what constituted fine literature in their world before leaving with some of it in addition to the novels she had picked earlier. Next stop: a place to get something for Sylphid.

Outside, Malicorne was looking anything that looked anything that sold food before beelining for a place named Tim Hortons where a mixed group of soldiers and civilians were hungrily waiting in line. Tables set nearby had customer from both worlds enjoying a quick meal and a warm beverage. The round pastries were a particular favorite of his as he waited impatiently for them. Perhaps he would ask the recipe from a cook so that his family servants could make them. As he looked at the stand, he swore that there were new kinds of pastries. Difficult decisions lay ahead for the poor boy who struggled not to drool too much.

Montmorency, on the other hand, was wandering around without any store in mind. One caught her attention that she was certain she hadn't seen before as she looked at the sign. Entering it, the young mage could see other girls talking excitedly with the beautiful store employees who wore black aprons with various brushes filling the pockets. Samples of makeup, perfume and other beauty products were on elegant stands while the staff was explaining the various intricacies of modern makeup, some even applying it to their customers who sat on chairs. Delicate aromas hung lightly in the air as some were sampling the latest perfumes.

"Excuse me milady?" one of the employees asked the blonde, "Has someone taken care of you yet?"

"No." she politely replied.

"Have you ever been here?" the woman asked, "Or are you familiar with our products?" Montmorency shook her head as she looked at the various products.

"This is my first time here."

"Very well, I am Sandrine Guérin, makeup specialist here. May I please have your name?"

"I am Montmorency Margarita La Fère de Montmorency 'the Fragrance'."

"I am pleased to meet you. Do you have any events or occasions that you will attend? Or would you like to experiment with something new?" the employee asked. Montmorency paused for a second as she looked around.

"I would like to experiment with something new. I can make my own beauty products but I wish to see what you can offer me."

The noble soon enjoyed her time as the employee showed her various products, explaining how to make the most of them and even applied some of them for free. Catalogues were shown as well while the specialist showed her impressive talents and skills to Montmorency who enjoyed the skilled pampering before finally buying some of the makeup. There was no way Guiche would look elsewhere now!

There were a lot of different businesses here by the portal so that every student found someplace interesting to go. Every single second was enjoyed as it was a much needed moment of relaxation, something many had missed.

All of the businesses had to get permission from the Canadian government, and the employees they selected got special permission and travel privileges that could be revoked at any time (like the invasion). By this point, there were around 300 people from Earth on this side of the portal doing direct transactions, a little more than the pre-war number. Some businesses sold their wares here, but others only took the orders here-the orders would be shipped through separately. Those were the businesses mainly helping with reconstruction.

Despite the logistics involved, it all managed to be profitable. With an academy frequented by rich families within carriage distance, it was real estate so prime is was ridiculous.

A few major businesses had even set up very small offices at a high cost to conduct macro business dealings in Halkegenia itself. Those people made up another 200 or so. Once you got away from the military fixtures directly around the portal, it looked like a small scale downtown block you could find in any American or Canadian city, visible entirely from the Tristain Academy of Magic.

Before any of that though, all Halkegenians had to clear a currency exchange office where their silver and gold specie was traded out for cold hard American and Canadian dollars. It made exchanges easier. Conversely, local merchants could trade in paper money for their own metal currency to use if they had no intention of buying something from Earth. There was a lot of silver and gold in that building, and unsurprisingly it was the most fortified in the whole base that surrounded the portal. Some students had even started a rumor the Earth soldiers bought a dragon to guard the interior.

The purchasing of Tristainian goods by Earth was done secondhand; someone would buy Tristainian goods, either specialty items or in bulk, and transport them back to Earth to sell. Or someone would get commissioned to come through the portal and acquire specific goods. The Tristainians got paid immediately, and Earth got its money back and a little profit in due time.

It was a system that had worked before, and it was a system that recovered quickly when peace returned. And it would very likely be the system for the rest of the two worlds' long and prosperous partnership.

* * *

Julio's visit had gone on longer than he'd anticipated it to be, but it was not a waste of time. He had yet to discover who the Void Mage was, although he had some clues. The Queen could not deflect his questioning forever, and she'd let something slip not long after returning from the other world.

"They will come forward in time, I assure you. But the Crown begs the Church to be considerate. They are very young. Their family and their kingdom has been grievously harmed. They do not wish to take such a revered position unprepared and without fulfilling their existing obligations." Julio had responded with understanding concern, pleased he'd finally gotten some information: the Void Mage was young. The Pope was too, at only 20, but the Founder himself had had his powers manifest at a young age. They could very well be a teenager.

Julio passed this information back to his Eminence, who permitted his visit to continue on longer. He was to still seek out the mage on his own time and bring them back if he found them. But otherwise the Pope wanted him to continue sending correspondances on the happenings in Tristain and negotiate to bring the outworlders to Romalia. So far, they'd reached an agreement to send people there to organize a more formal meeting at a later date. But until that meeting took place, Julio would resume doing his duties here in Tristain. Of particular interest was Germania, and how they and Tristain seemed to be plotting to invade Albion.

Re-establishing itself there was very much a goal of the church, and this could be their opportunity. Germania wasn't a Blessed Realm, but the Founder's gift existed there and it was on amicable terms with the Church. Tristain still made themselves out to be faithful servants of the Church. If an invasion did occur, the Church would want to know so they could be involved.

The seemingly benevolent nations of Canada and America were still in his sights too.

Julio had split his weeks in Tristain going around asking questions about first the outworlders and then the battle that had brought forth a user of Void. On the first instance he only heard praise: praise of their craftsmanship, praise of their fighting prowess, and praise of their generosity. Julio had a feeling that they were revered as much as the Crown.

Finding people who'd fought in the siege was easy; there were thousands in the Capital and the surrounding lands. But many of them had only witnessed the event. Julio had even asked the outworlders. Their common soldiers weren't allowed to answer his questions, only their officers. Apparently the outworlders hadn't arrived into the Capital until after the Void Magic had been unleashed. The only useful fact he'd gotten was that it had originated in the Castle.

Even Tristain's Cardinal, a man whose loyalty was to Brimir's teachings above all else, had no information for him.

"I am sorry that I cannot aid you, Emissary Chésaré," Mazarin said apologetically, "I was tending to our wounded when I heard of the miracle that saved us. Whoever they are, they have not come here seeking guidance. They may be fearful."

"Do not apologize for doing what Brimir preached, Cardinal Mazarin," Julio replied, "I will simply lead this enquiry elsewhere."

"Thank you Emissary. I will assist you in any way I can."

Julio nodded in acknowledgement.

"Is it true that the leaders of Canada and of the United States had come for her Majesty's coronation?" he asked, changing subjects.

"Yes, as well as the Princes of the United Kingdom, an ally of theirs," Mazarin answered.

"What were these men like? Have they shown any sign of their own faiths?"

Mazarin shook his head.

"Neither of them showed any piety to other gods. I've never seen anyone from their world openly do so." The Cardinal answered honestly. "As for what kind of men they were, they were very different from one another. Prime Minister Trudeau was quite humble and polite but President Trump was… a very demanding man. Shrewd, but he carried through with everything he said."

The American president had been quite abrasive at moments but from what Julio heard, Trump was the leader of the most powerful nation on Earth and had been a very wealthy merchant. It was unsurprising to say the least.

"What of the Princes?" Julio prodded. Perhaps they were there to court Henrietta and secure an alliance.

"The two men were very well mannered. They wished for our prosperity."

"Have they spoken with her Majesty about any union?"

"Nothing like that. I have heard that they were both already married, with the youngest having married very recently." The Cardinal shook his head. "Although I do believe the Queen of that lineage phoned-sent a message- offering her condolences for those who have died."

"I know what a phone is." Julio nodded. "Very remarkable device."

"Yes, although one of the many things that we cannot comprehend. I'm not sure if you've noticed, but even they have trouble in this land sometimes; their constructs do not work to their full potential. "

"What do you mean?" Julio had seen so far just how powerful Earth technology was. This was his first time hearing it had shortcomings.

"The ways they power the lights in their buildings, for instance. They have to bring it in through the portal very frequently. Same for what powers their carriages. They use some kind of substance to power them that they can only get in their world. Were it not for the portal, a lot of it would be useless."

The Romalian noted this information very quickly. Maybe it meant that Earth used its own brand of magic that was simply very different from Brimir's gifts. But he was also considering the very real possibility that the Founder's gifts and relics in the vaults under Romalia were from their world. If the Cardinal's words were true, the Church couldn't use their full power for the crusades. The implications were great.

The Papacy had always known how powerful those weapons were, and the intention was not just keeping them away from anyone wanting to topple the Brimiric faith. So would it be possible to negotiate with these nations to give Romalia the ability to understand and unlock those weapons' full potential?

Perhaps not; they were very stringent about sharing their technology. But if they were going to be tolerated here in Halkegenia, they'd have to find some way to be useful.

 **Author's endnote: Hope you enjoyed the long ride. I really wanted to give some of the cast a break after all they've been through in the past few chapters as well as a sense of things getting slowly back to normal… even if dark clouds are looming in Gallia and maybe even Romalia. But things are changing even if everyone's catching their breaths. Hope you enjoyed this... don't hesitate to review eh?**

 **For fun… what are the books that Tabitha picked up?**


	19. Chapter 17: False Peace

**Disclaimer: FoZ/ZnT belong to the departed Noboru Yamaguchi and whoever inherited the I.P.. Any real life organisation/person is merely being used in a fictional non-profit way. As always, special thanks to Trainalf for co-authoring this chapter.**

 **Author's note: Just to be clear… there is no way that Tristain is getting 21st century weapons given Canadian and American experience in the Middle-East. That and logistics would be simply impossible for the Tristainians to handle. All modern North American weapons are made to work with the fact that the users have the economic, industrial, social and financial means to maintain them. All of our military technology is meant to be used by a highly-literate society that is used to using electronics and electrical systems. Tristain does not currently have any of that. They are a realm that is around the 1600's… well before our highly industrialized societies. The large majority of the population is illiterate and the infrastructure hasn't even reached the steam engine yet. Economy is still largely based off artisans and agriculture is still at the stage of sustenance; meaning that farmers are growing to feed themselves before selling it for profit. Massed, standardized production with high precision is a concept that they are dreaming of… if they can think of the concept.**

 **There is simply no way for Tristain to maintain modern equipment given those factors… not to mention that selling weapons to a highly religious monarchy in a place that seems to be dealing with religious turmoil or has enough racial hatred to start a full blown crusade is a disaster waiting to happen. No one in America or Canada wants that. Period.**

 **However, Canada and the US will help them modernize in civilian areas. Infrastructure, agriculture, healthcare, improved services to the population and helping with any technological advances that isn't military (Colbert and magical steam engines for example...) will be on the table.**

 **As for the books that Tabitha picked up, those of you who guessed Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Lord of the Rings and Star Wars: The Phantom Menace guessed right.**

 **Enjoy your read… and don't forget to review afterwards!**

 **False Peace**

The sun shone brightly upon Tristainia. Though the capital was still scarred by the cataclysmic battle against Albion, she was slowly healing. While there was a lot of empty space from destroyed buildings that had been demolished, the streets were cleared of all debris as the allied forces relentlessly worked day and night. People were slowly coming back to their old lives, the sound of construction filling the air as key buildings were being rebuilt.

Today however was a great day as crowds gathered in the streets. Fanfares echoed throughout the city along the sound of marching boots. The banners of the Royal Tristainian Army and Henrietta led the victorious Tristainians through the great boulevards while the people cheered and threw wreaths and confetti in celebration. The young queen waved at her beaming subjects, her Musketeers riding proudly alongside her. Following the Royal Army were the Vallières', Grammonts and Grandpré armies, led by their family heads, sons and heirs who had fought in the great battle. Guiche and his brothers rode alongside their father, the youngest son carrying the army's battle standard. Their battle dress were impeccable while their armour shone brightly against the sun.

Yet few could miss how small the parades were. All the armies had been severely depleted by the battle. But they didn't dwell on it. They smiled and cheered, looking at all the brave souls who'd saved their Kingdom, earnestly believing they could do it again tomorrow if need be. After the Tristainians, was a part of the Canadian Army contingent, dressed in their CADPAT uniforms. The 3rd Battalion of the Royal 22e Régiment led the contingent, their maroon berets symbolizing their elite status as airborne troops. Behind them, the green berets of the regular army followed The Canadian flag flew proudly as the troops behind them in formation without a single misstep, everything having been rehearsed and drilled many times. After the Canadians were the Americans.; a contingent from the 10th Mountain, the division that had fired the first real shots in this conflict for Earth.

The Queen had insisted that they join the victory march, this being a victory for them as much as the Tristainian armies. The British had been offered a spot too, but politely declined, given the classified nature of their forces that had partaken. The citizens of Tristania ooed and awed at the Earth warriors, behaving much more like their own armies.

The parade came to a stop in the center of Tristainia. Here, a large area had been cleared out. A stage had been set up earlier. Henrietta walked up to the podium before her waiting subjects. Using a spell, she enhanced her voice.

"People of Tristain, we have been through very trying times but we have overcome them. Through our courage, determination and, most importantly, sacrifices has our kingdom survived the trials of war and battle. It is not simply through strength of arms and magic that we still stand as a Blessed Realm of Brimir but through our devotion to the Founder's ways."

She looked over her people who stood proudly.

"With this great trial, Tristain has no longer anything to fear as we turn to the future. No longer shall we fear tomorrow; instead we shall seize every sunrise as an opportunity to better ourselves and to build this realm to the glory of the Founder."

She raised an arm towards the cleared land behind her.

"By Royal Decree, the grounds upon which I stand shall be hallowed ground. This will be a place of beauty where anyone can find peace and happiness. A place of remembrance where those who have given the ultimate sacrifice to defend our realm shall be forever honored for their heroics deeds. Know that a great monument shall be raised in this place to remember them and the night that our kingdom was saved."

The crowd cheered as the Queen left the stage. The procession headed to the Palace for the next great moment of the day.

* * *

The throne rooms was filled. For the first time in many years, it was for celebrations of victory. Many nobles were in attendance as they were being rewarded and being recognized for their deeds during and after the battle. Earth's ambassadors were also present, bearing decorations for those they had judged worthy. Julio stood there, a polite smile on his face as he carefully watched the ceremonies. It was another opportunity for him to observe the new players in Halkeginia. He watched as the youngest scion of the Grammont family walked forward and received his title of Chevalier from Queen Henrietta for his capture of the heretical Cromwell.

"Let it be known through the land that the Grammont Family are true servants of the Blessed Realm of Water. Their House has long served Tristain and defended her borders and people from foes, giving the greatest of sacrifices at time to ensure our Realm's survival. Today, we are here to celebrate the heroics of their youngest son. Kneel, Guiche André-François de Grammont."

The young noble kneeled as Henrietta touched his shoulders with her swords.

"For your triumph and capture of the heretical Oliver Cromwell during the Battle of Tristainia, I pronounce you Chevalier Guiche André-François de Grammont. Do you vow to serve the Founder and Tristainia in peace and in war?"

"I, Guiche André-François de Grammont, vow to serve the Founder and Tristainia in peace and in war."

"Rise than Chevalier de Grammont."

The gathered nobles clapped as the young man rose to his feet. Henrietta then signalled for the ambassadors to come forth. Ambassador Ambroise was the first to come.

"On behalf of the Governor-General of Canada, representative of her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth the Second, I present you the Meritorious Service Cross," he declared, "for your actions during the Battle of Tristainia that have brought honour and benefit to the Canadian Armed Forces. Your successful capture of Oliver Cromwell is the first successful capture of an enemy leader on the battlefield in centuries. It is an exploit of great gallantry that has shortened a bloody conflict and has saved civilian and military lives in all of our nations."

The ambassador pinned the Meritorious Service Cross on the left side of Guiche's chest as one of his staff took pictures. Next, it was Ambassador Fitzgerald that walked up to the young noble, accompanied by Colonel Hamilton who'd flown out here for the occasion. Guiche would be the first Tristainian to ever receive an American gallantry award. It was an honor that put him on the same level as some of the heroes of foreign armies in the greater conflicts of America's past, such as WWII and Vietnam.

"This is the Silver Star Medal. It is the 3rd highest decoration for valor in combat for the United States' Armed Forces." The Colonel explained for everyone before he read of the citation for the award, detailing Guiche's bravery in rescuing two of his fellow combatants from capture and then capturing the enemy head of state himself on the battlefield, a deed that brought an expedient end to the invasion and the war. It was also a feat of arms that had not been done by anyone in the United States military as well. There was great applause as the medal was pinned on his chest.

There were other awards given. Many nobles young and old, leaders and officers, were commended for particular acts of bravery or for perseverance against overwhelming odds. Henrietta handed out land to some of the families. The crown had gained a lot, but there was such a thing as too much to manage. It was as far as she could do for reparations.

Numerous water mages were personally thanked by Henrietta for their diligent care of wounded during the battle while Earth mages who'd done a great deal to repair the city were recognized.

To many nobles' surprise, but the silent approval of the Earth ambassadors and Julio, even a few commoners were awarded and personally thanked by the Queen. The American and Canadian officers, commoners may they have been, were the least surprising.

"Tristain will never forget the courage and compassion you showed for us in our darkest hour."

Commoner soldiers from the Tristain armies stood proudly with medals on their chests.

Even some regular citizens. Merchants who'd given out their wears were promised compensation for their selflessness. Siesta's uncle Scarron, though scandalizing some attendees with his presence and appearance, received the utmost tact from the Queen as she thanked him and his staff for tirelessly providing food for the city's citizens and soldiers for days, expending his entire kitchen's stores. From the way Henrietta spoke, all the commoners she thanked had done as much work as the nobles.

No one expected what happened at the end of the ceremony.

"Louise-Françoise Leblanc de La Vallière and Hiraga Saito, come forward." Henrietta declared. The two did as ordered.

"M. Hiraga Saito, for the many efforts you have done to help the Blessed Realm of Tristain and its people, I grant you the title of Chevalier. Please bow so that I may grant you your title."

Saito bowed as Henrietta touched each one of his shoulders with her sword.

"Rise, Chevalier d'Hiraga."

A pair of servants placed a cloak, symbol of Halkeginian nobility onto Saito.

"For your work in bringing forth the alliance between the Blessed Realm and the nations of Canada and the United States, you shall now be titled Viscount Des Ornières and entrusted with the welfare of Des Ornières."

"Thank you, your Majesty. I accept the title and responsibilities that you have entrusted me with."

There was an outbreak of whispering within the crowd as Henrietta handed him the deed. A commoner, a commoner from the other world even, being made a noble? Such things were only heard of in Germania! Ignoring them, Henrietta moved on to Louise.

"Lady Louise-Françoise Leblanc de La Vallière, for your steadfast friendship to the Crown, I award you with the title of Chevalier. Please bow so that I may grant you your title."

Louise and Henrietta went through the same ritual as the Queen had done with Saito.

"For your heroic deeds during the Battle of Tristainia that has ensured my personal safety, you and the House of Vallière shall be rewarded with the lands of Decambrais. You shall now be titled Viscountess of Decambrais and shall be entrusted with its welfare."

"Thank you your Majesty. I accept the title and responsibilities that you have entrusted me with."

Louise received the deed for the new land, although her mind fluttered on the inside. Not long ago, she was seen as failure, as a Zero… but now times had changed and she was being rewarded with things beyond her wildest dreams.

* * *

Saito and Louise marked the end of the award ceremony, and after that the 'fun' celebrations began. People moved to the more spacious parts of the Palace. Food and drinks were served. The Earth Ambassadors stayed, but for the most part it was the remains of Tristain's high society schmoozing.

Before Louise could enjoy any of it, she had to be lectured by her parents while Éléonore fumed off to the side. They made it clear she wasn't ready for that type of management and that they'd look after the new holdings while teaching her the ropes. Louise didn't argue; she really had so much on her plate right now she didn't want anything else.

"Congrats, you love birds." Hayate raised a glass to the two once they could finally enjoy themselves. "So, you're a noble now?" He asked his brother.

"Guess I am." Saito shrugged. The weight of it hadn't fully set in yet.

"Well Hiraga-sama, when will thou visit thy lands?" the older brother asked with a grin, causing Saito to roll his eyes and sigh in annoyance.

"In the next few days? I think I have to sign some paperwork or something first." He looked over at Louise, contemplating something as she stared into her glass. He moved behind her and put his hands on her shoulder. "So now that I'm a noble...does that mean I can marry you?"

"Wah?!" He gulped the glass' contents down while Louise almost dropped hers. "Y-you dog!" She stuttered, blushing furiously.

"Hmm. Since you two are the same rank if I understand correctly, there shouldn't be any difficulties getting married," the older Hiraga said, a hand on his chin, "It's almost as if her Majesty wanted to play matchmaker."

"How dare-" Louise started before she was interrupted.

"Tsk tsk, do not assume such things Hayate," a familiar voice chimed with a hint of mischief, "I was merely rewarding loyalty."

"Your Majesty!" Louise said as she curtsied.

"I hope you are enjoying the celebrations," Henrietta asked kindly.

"I am," Hayate replied, "First time I ever went to a banquet like this too."

"I am happy to hear that."

"How has your evening been your Majesty?" Louise asked curiously.

"Oh the usual," the Queen replied, "Discussing with the nobles about the future of the realm and if we are going to invade Albion with Germania."

"I hope you are not really considering that," Hayate asked, "You have just gone through a horrible war."

Henrietta shook her head grimly.

"There is a lot of pressure for me to do so," she answered honestly, "And there is a part of me that wishes to invade Albion as well." She glanced towards a ring on her finger.

"But why?" Saito asked in surprise.

"I do not wish to let the lands of the Tudors fall into chaos." she said plainly, "Someone will need to rule that land."

"They can figure it out for themselves." Saito suggested hopefully. "Like countries on Earth do." Henrietta smiled sadly.

"As wonderous your world is Saito...I'm afraid we just cannot do that here. Too many people in authority would protest. And if not us, who is to say Gallia won't?" There was a trace of worry in her voice. "The best option isn't always the easiest."

Saito and Hayate seemed to back down as she was right.

"Ah your Majesty," another refined voice cut in, "I was looking for you."

"Emissary Chésaré, I am happy that you have graced us with your presence," Henrietta said politely.

"Thank you. This banquet is splendid and I have had a few pleasant discussions with your court as well as the representatives from Earth." Julio answered before looking at Louise and the Hiraga siblings, "Who are these people?" He asked politely.

"My name is Hiraga Hayate." Saito's brother introduced himself first. "This is my little brother Saito. We're both from Earth."

"The other world?" Julio seemed surprised. "You were awarded a noble title, were you not?" He asked Saito.

"Oh, yeah. But I was here before the portal opened." Saito explained while Henrietta's eyes widened suddenly.

"How does such happen?" Julio raised an eyebrow. Saito jerked a thumb towards Louise.

"She summoned me as a familiar." He told the Romalian.

"But he's not just my familiar anymore!" Louise interjected. "He's my...uhhh…"

"A human familiar…" Julio mused, a hand on his chin and eyes darting between Louise and Saito. "I've never heard of such things."

"It was a surprise to us all." Henrietta said flatly. "But one that has been invaluable to our Kingdom."

"In fact, I've only heard of Void Mages being granted human familiars." Julio said out loud. You could feel the temperature in the immediate area drop. Henrietta kept a strong façade through sheer determination. Louise looked towards the ground in embarrassment. Hayate's confusion was genuine.

"A Void Mage?" Saito repeated as dumbly as he could, "What's that? I just thought she got lucky by herself summoning a boyfriend."

Louise reddened even more.

"Excuse him, Emissary, he's still not fully versed in our culture. While Louise has been a great help to my Kingdom, she is not the Void Mage." Henrietta lied. It was perhaps the riskiest thing she'd ever done in her time as Queen. "She and Saito have been valuable agents in establishing connections between Tristain and Earth."

"Interesting, your Majesty," Julio replied cryptically, "You seem to be very blessed in terms of friendships."

"Ah, excuse me, sorry for intruding. Are you the Emissary from the Pope?" A voice interjected on the group. The group turned and all but one of them recognized who it was.

"I am." Julio extended a hand to the newcomer. "You are?"

"Simon Anders. I represent the diplomatic services of Canada," the sharply dressed man introduced himself. "Some of my colleagues are here and we were hoping to speak to you and reaffirm some final details for that visit in a weeks time. My apologies, your Majesty." He added to Henrietta.

"None taken, M. Anders." She nodded.

"Of course, I cannot decline such important business. Pardon me." As Julio left for the group of men the undercover intel operative had pointed out, the well dressed man stayed behind and leaned in towards Saito and Louise.

"Kids, take my advice. Get the hell out of here. Go wait somewhere quiet till the party's over." Saito nodded and quickly pulled Louise away. Hayate went with them. Henrietta was looking seriously at the other man.

"We have the same interests, your Majesty. Sorry, we can discuss later." He answered the question that was on her mind.

"Of course." Henrietta nodded. "Thank you." As the man left to keep Julio busy, Henrietta resisted the urge to shake her head. Collaborating with her allies to deceive the Church...What was she getting herself and her Kingdom into?

* * *

"Man, that was just weird bro," Hayate said as the brothers entered their quarters. Louise had gone to her family's quarters, "Since when did you have spies watching your back and playing wingman for you?"

"I don't know." Saito was honestly confused. His relationship with the American and Canadian spies hadn't been all that pleasant, but they'd just bailed him out of hot water. A gentle knock on the door caught their attention.

"You can come in!" Hayate yelled as the door opened, revealing a young maid with a tray.

"Her Majesty has told me to bring food and wine up to your quarters, Viscount Hiraga," the woman said, "She suggests you to read the label on the wine bottle. It is a fine one from your new lands. She wishes you to be familiar with it." She set the tray down and quickly left. Saito picked up the bottle and noticed the tag as a lot larger then it should've been.

' _Viscount_ , _I strongly suggest you visit Lady Vallière before her parents return. Do not fret if they return to early as there is a secret passage between your quarters. Here are the instructions to use it.'_ Saito read through it quickly.

"I have to go." He looked up at his brother.

"Something wrong, bro?"

"Nothing, just got something to do," He grabbed Derf and hurried out. Meanwhile, Hayate decided to take a look at the wine bottle.

"Damn Henrietta! You really want those two together!" he joked, trying to relax himself before uncorking the bottle and pouring himself a glass, "Good wine too!"

The secret passage seemed more like an escape tunnel to Saito. It reminded him of his video games, how a lot of nobles really had things like that in their houses in case they needed to leave in a hurry. Well, he wasn't going to complain about their paranoia when it gave him a clear way to get to Louise.

He could see a sort of door at the end of the path as he continued walking quickly. Turning the handle and pushing, Saito could see a bright room appearing in front of him.

"AHHHHHHHH!"

And also an undressed Louise. He jumped and hit his head on the roof of the passage.

"THERE'S A PERV-SAITO?!" A very red-faced Louise shrieked before she rushed to him.

"Urgh, that was lower than I thought," Saito said gingerly as he rubbed his head.

"What are you doing here?!" She hissed, covering herself. "How did you get here?"

"The Queen told me about that hidden passage. Said I should check on you." He let his eyes wander over the pleasant sight. Louise remembered the state she was in and tried to angrily shove him back while covering herself with her hands.

"J-just let me dress at least!"

"Ok! Ok! Sheesh, isn't the first time I've seen you naked. Do you need a hand?" He got a kick in the ass for that comment and question.

"Not when my parents can walk in any time!"

Saito froze for a second.

"Good idea!"

He did not want them beheading him. Especially since he was getting on their good side during his last days at the Vallières manor. He stayed in the passage till Louise had changed into something more decent.

"Why are you here?" She asked when she let him back into the room.

"The Queen told me." Saito explained it again. "I think she was worried about the Juliet guy."

"Julio!" Louise scolded. "He-he represents the Church, Saito!" She been so scared when he called her out. "And he knows! I just know it!"

"Well, he can't force you to go anywhere." Saito insisted, "The Queen won't let him and I don't think Canada and the US will either."

"They can't stand against the Church, you idiot!" Louise argued, "You have no idea how powerful Romalia is!"

"You have no idea what happened to the most powerful church on Earth!" Saito countered, putting his hands on her shoulders. "I'm here, Louise! Whatever these people want with you being a Void Mage, it's your choice to go along with it. And if they try and force you, well...I can take you to Earth!" He came up with an outlandish idea. "They'll never find you there. You'll love Japan!"

The little mage blushed a bit before her face hardened again.

"I can't go against the Church… that… that would be going against the Founder himself!" She fretted. "But I'm not ready for something like that. I only just learned how to cast a spell!"

"You don't have to, because it's not happening." He pulled her into a hug. "I'll stay with you till your parents get back, I promise."

* * *

Later that evening, the festivities were winding down. Many nobles were excusing themselves home. Others sought residence for the night in the palace's various guest rooms.

Gentle snoring could be heard inside the Vallières' quarters. Saito and Louise had fallen asleep in each other's arms on the couch.

At the same time, a lone person was coming up to the stairs to that section of the palace. It was Julio. A palace servant had pointed him to the lodging and the fact Louise had come up here. The Void Mage was a little girl… Well, he'd expected something of the sort. The Founder's greatest gift always manifested itself young.

The deserted corridors made it easy for him to move around without being seen. He'd made sure that the girls' parents were still downstairs. It would make things a little easier. It was an unpleasant task though necessary for the salvation of Halkeginia. He was even aware this might upset the people from Earth. Well, what was that compared to a Void Mage? Nothing.

He pressed an ear to the door, hearing nothing. Hopefully she was asleep. Next, Julio backtracked to the first balcony he could find. His dragon mount was waiting for him there. Obviously he wouldn't be able to carry her out through the Palace gates. No, he'd fly her back. He climbed onto the beast's back and spurred it to the window of the Vallières' room before lightly stepping off onto the ledge. The mount flew up quietly to the right window before Julio leapt off into the room's open window. As he entered, the emissary took careful steps to avoid making too much noise.

"Hey partner! We got a problem!" A rusty voice suddenly shouted. Julio tensed up and looked around. "Hey pretty boy, wrong room!" He finally traced it to a wall where a sword was resting against it.

"Wha? Derf? What are you- shit!"

Julio turned around towards a doorway just in time to get tackled. His dagger flew from his hand as a fist collided with his face. Someone started screaming as Julio wrestled on the floor with his attacker.

Louise watched her boyfriend struggling with the intruder, rolling over and over into nearby furniture and knocking things over. Someone started hammering on the door to their room hard.

"Hello?! Anyone in there?" Louise ran to answer it. She opened the door, finding one familiar person and one she didn't know but was sure she could trust.

"Captain de Milan!" she exclaimed, "There's an assassin in here!"

Wordlessly, the captain drew her sword and pistol while the other man drew a concealed pistol from his vest and both rushed in past Louise.

"Halt or I'm shooting!" Agnes shouted clearly as the two adults took aim. The boys stopped fighting at the threat, allowing everyone to recognize the intruder. "Emissary?!" Agnes exclaimed. "Let him go!" She shouted at Saito, and that convinced him to drop the chokehold he'd been lucky enough to get.

Both men picked themselves up, Julio having a clear look of embarrassment on his face.

"Viscount Hiraga! Emissary Chésaré! What in the Founder's name is happening?!" Agnes continued. The CSIS agent had a hand on his radio but was waiting for an explanation.

"I don't know! He just showed up in my room without warning!" Saito defended, "So I attacked him in case he was dangerous!"

"Well, this is rather embarrassing." Julio said cooly as he smoothed out his clothes. "My apologies for frightening you. It was not my intention."

"Then why are you here?" Agnes said as she lowered her pistol slightly.

"Ah, well...I met Miss Valliere here at the party and sought to get better...acquainted with her."

The agent and Agnes' eyes narrowed in disgust and annoyance.

"He came through the window! I saw him." Derf spoke up.

"Is that the truth?" the agent asked, his voice cold with venom.

"Yes, I… sought to impress her. Many ladies fawn over a man who can make an mysterious entrance. A handsome man coming to them in the night. It has worked for me before. But it seems that she was already in good company."

"I strongly suggest you get out now Emissary," Agnès replied sharply, "Her Majesty will have harsh words the next time she meets with his Eminence."

"My leaders might not wish to discuss with a man whose behavior with women is reprehensible," the agent said, "I doubt that his Eminence would be pleased if our diplomatic relations were to end because of your lecherousness."

His tone was stern but polite.

"My apologies to all of you," Julio said, "I hope my conduct won't be too destructive to our diplomatic efforts. My behavior was most… unacceptable, Lady Vallière."

He bowed. "I apologize to you especially. Perhaps we can meet again under more normal circumstances."

Louise was still glaring at him.

"I accept your apology but do not expect me to forget this affront."

"I understand."

Julio exited the room by the window he had come in from.

After he had left, Saito plead his case. "He was lying! You should have stopped him!" He insisted.

"Yeah, no shit he was lying." The CSIS agent agreed. "Stanford here." He got on his radio. "That Romalian boy just tried to get to the Void Mage. He's not dead and we brushed it off as a misunderstanding, but we know what he was up to and he knows it." He held the radio to his ear for some time. "Right. Will do."

"What are you doing now?" Agnes asked.

"Talking to my superiors about this." He explained. "Can you go tell the Queen? You two," He pointed at Louise and Saito. "Pack your bags. You're staying in the Canadian Embassy tonight. We'll tell your parents for you." He turned back to Agnes. "For everyone's sake, we're going to pretend this didn't happen." He stated while Louise and Saito went to gather their things.

"That may be for the best, but her Majesty will not be happy."

"It's only temporary," Stanford replied, "None of us are going to be happy either, believe me." If they were lucky, that boy would just think they were afraid of offending the Church like every other Kingdom here.

The agent already knew what the worst case plan was: taking those two kids and hiding them on Earth. But it was a decision to be taken at the very highest level of leadership, given Louise's status and how Henrietta might react. Just helping her disappear might make things worse with the Church, but given what they knew about this world, they knew letting them have a Void Mage was probably worse.

"Conflict with the Church is the last thing we need." Agnes sighed.

"It's the last thing we need too." The agent assured. "But they don't want it and neither do we. We can sweep this under the rug."

"Yet you were the one who insisted we walk these corridors. You suspected something like this would happen here." Agnes accused. "What is your nations' interest in keeping a Void Mage out of Romalia's hands?" To her knowledge, it wasn't a subject they'd discussed with the Queen since apologizing for detaining Saito and Louise.

"Let's just say we like making sure our friends are doing well and safe," the agent replied simply as he holstered his pistol, "Do the reasons really matter if we're working towards the same thing, Captain de Milan?"

Agnes holstered her weapons but she still Queen didn't want Louise taken. All Agnes really wanted was for Henrietta to be safe.

"I don't know what your leaders are doing but I will inform her Majesty of this. But I hope for her sake she knows what she's doing."

* * *

It was a weird sensation, being away from Louise. After over a year, Saito wasn't within arm's reach of the small pink haired mage as he and Hayate rode their carriage through the countryside. After the Julio incident, Saito and Louise had spent the following day in the Canadian Embassy until Louise's parents were ready to return home.

He was sure they knew what had happened, because they'd gotten additional guards for the journey home and Louise's mom had kept a tight grip on her daughter's hand the whole way. It was satisfying to him to see so many people trying to keep her out of the Church's hands.

Still, Saito couldn't go back with them; he had other matters to take care of. But at least he was sure Louise's parents would keep her safe.

"Hiraga-sama, are we soon to arrive at thy domain?"

"Shut up big bro," Saito replied in annoyance as he tried to swat his brother, "And we should be here soon."

"Looks like a nice little place you got here though," Hayate said as he glanced through the peaceful countryside around him, "Can't believe you got a title and some land."

"Yeah, apparently Des Ornières belonged to a guy who died without an heir," Saito replied, "So it ended up back in the Queen's property."

The carriage came to a stop before everyone disembarked in front of an old manor house.

"Looks like it could use some work," Hayate said as he looked at the house.

"Yeah, apparently no one's been here in awhile," Saito explained as they opened the door, "Well… mom's gonna throw a fit if she sees this place."

"I wish I could see her face when she finds out that you got free land and a nice manor." Hayate joked, "Think you can get our parents to visit?" Both stopped and looked around. Just from the first floor, they could both tell it'd be a while before anyone should be able to visit: The spacious rooms were mostly empty save for a healthy layer of dust.

"Urgh," Hayate coughed as he looked around, "This place needs lot of work if you ask me. Think you can hire someone with that money you got?"

"Yeah…" Saito said as he looked around the building, "I think her Majesty said that this place is known for wine-making."

"Since when do you drink wine?" Hayate joked but Saito rolled his eyes.

"It could be a good way of making money."

"Yeah. Did you learn anything else about this place?" Hayate asked more seriously. Saito nodded, a serious look on his face.

"Yeah, it's a very poor region since the old lord wasn't a very good one. He wasted a lot of money on random shit and didn't care about the people so alot of them left. Apparently the Crown didn't have the means to restore the land as well."

"You think you can run this place though?" Hayate asked skeptically.

"It shouldn't be too hard right?" Saito said nonchalantly as he wandered around the entrance before spotting an envelope on the only table in the front parlor, one conspicuously absent of dust. He went to pick it up and noticed the American flag drawn on the outside.

"More spy stuff?" His brother guessed. "Are you a secret agent now too?" Saito opened the letter and realized it was in English.

 _Congratulations for your new title and property._

 _The Agricultural offices are at the Embassy if you want to make the best of it. There's also other people that might be able to help you make the place flowing with money. And if you're worried about security, come visit us at Clément-sur-Mer. The Embassy can set up transport for you._

 _George Devers._

"Yeah, it was those spies again." Saito frowned in a mix of annoyance and skepticism. "It sounds like they want to help me."

"After what you told me, think you can trust them?"

"I don't want to, but they already helped me with Louise. And after what Julio tried I really don't feel safe." Now looking around the big manor, he couldn't help but think of all the ways an intruder could get in. "I kind of want to ask why they're helping us too." He admitted.

"Just be careful, little bro. Don't want you disappearing in the night or something."

The two continued walking around inside the manor, making their way to the second floor where they assumed where the bedrooms would be.

"Looks like we're gonna have to get some new furniture," Saito remarked as they entered what he assumed was the master suite. It was empty, there wasn't even a bed inside the room.

"Well, I think you're gonna make some local artisan very happy if you ask me," Hayate said, "You'll have to buy almost their whole stock."

"Yeah, and my wallet unhappy." Saito grumbled.

"Don't be like that partner!" Derflinger exclaimed, "Here's your shot at a fun life. Think of all the good stuff you can get."

The Queen had given him money, but he'd been hoping to save that to spend on Louise; he hadn't been joking about the marriage thing.

"Think we can figure out a way to get electricity in this place? It's already got indoor plumbing so that's a nice start," Hayate called from the bathroom.

"That's gonna be complicated, I think." Saito replied as they finished their tour of the upper floor, "Think we can take a look at the basement next?"

"Sure. You got a flashlight or anything?" Hayate asked, "Oh wait, I got my phone for this."

As they reached the basement, they could feel how humid it was. Dust floated lowly in the air, flying out of their way. The basement was filled with empty wine racks. The last owner had clearly enjoyed the fruits of his land, that was for sure.

"Hey why is there a room here?" Hayate shouted as he pointed his phone at an open door. As they entered, they noticed that it had no racks or anything similar.

"Looks empty to me-GAAAH!"

Saito tripped on a wooden bar. He stumbled a few steps forward before bracing himself on the wall. The brick suddenly lit up and a rumbling sound was heard.

"You ok partner!?"

"It's a trap!" Hayate yelled as he began to turn, "We need to get out of here!"

"Wait a sec! The wall's turning!"

"What?!"

They threw a glance at the wall, noticing that a section had turned.

"This feels like a cheesy video game," Hayate remarked suddenly as he looked into the passageway that just appeared.

"No. Stuff like this is everywhere in this world. All the nobles are paranoid someone's going to kill them in their sleep," Saito pointed out as he drew Derflinger from its scabbard, "Might as well go check where this leads."

Like the rest of the manor, the passageway was decrepit. Spiderwebs hung on the sturdy looking beams as the two siblings and talking sword walked towards the end.

"This is… interesting." Hayate said as he saw the room they wound up inside. It was well furnished with a nice bed, tapestries and a mirror.

"Think this is where the old owner's mistress used to hid?" the older brother joked, "And her herself ready?"

"Maybe? At least I got some furniture now," Saito remarked as he looked at the mirror, "Something looks off about this mirror though."

"Think it's like that mirror from Harry Potter?"

He noticed that his reflexion was shimmering slightly he touched the mirror. Suddenly, the room's reflexion changed… to a darker room. "Whoa…" Saito said as he tried to push his hand in, before his brother immediately pulled him back.

"Oh no you're not! We already lost you once to weird magical portals!"

"It looks kind of familiar though." Saito remarked, causing his brother to tense up, "I mean the room, not the portal. Gimme a sec, I have an idea."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, we could throw something into it and see what happens?"

The older sibling shook his head.

"And risk pissing something or someone off on the other side? I think we should just take a picture of this and ask her Majesty or Louise about it," Hayate suggested, "It'll be safer that way for us."

"Yeah, you're right. We'll show it to her next time we're at the Palace, or when Louise comes to visit." Saito agreed, "Maybe I could write to Professor Colbert about this?"

"Sure."

Hayate snapped a picture of it, and the two boys continued looking around the rest of the manor, finding nothing of any real significance. But the mirror stayed in the back of the minds.

Eh, if it was anything dangerous, they could just chuck it out when they got new furniture into this place.

* * *

The scientific journals on Earth had covered a lot of things in twelve months worth of publishings: flora, fauna, the civilization of the Halkagenian people, and a lot of dedication to their history. They'd definitely talked about magic: it's properties, its practical uses, and the applications it could have on Earth assuming they ever found a way to replicate magic there. They'd gone crazy with windstones, but when faced with practicality it was all wishful thinking. Earth had only obtained very few windstones and experimentation on Earth so far had not triggered them in a way to show off their properties. Fire, earth, and water stones had apparently all been used up, at least in Tristain, and weren't covered as much.

But none so far had covered mages directly. There were vague details about how they usually needed an incantation and something like a wand or staff to focus, but nothing on how and why they could do it. The simple fact was, no one had figured it out yet.

They'd gotten DNA samples from mages from the earliest days of contact. They'd gotten more than a few during the banquet hosted when the diplomatic parties first arrived. They were minutely different from regular humans, both from Earth and commoners here in Halkegenia. What those differences were though, they couldn't be sure. They just knew there were differences in DNA, and that led credence to the theory magic was some sort of gene.

Mages were not a separate species or anything of the sort; magical nobles and non-magical commoners had procreated in Halkegenia before, and more often than that the child would inherit magical abilities. They were very much human by biology as it was an accepted science on Earth.

Elves were the same way, curiously. Tiffania was born of a mage and a elf. They had no knowledge of an elf and a non-magical person interloping, but they had no reason to assume it was impossible. The DNA sample that had been extracted from her during a health checkup showed similarities to humans and unique traits from magical and non-magical humans. But again, they weren't sure what those unique genomes were responsible for. They were pretty sure a sample from a full elf would be different. Some researchers had already proposed that the difference between humans and elves were only as substantial as skin color on Earth.

Either way, they'd come about as far as they could using just DNA samples. There was an interest in the brain activity of mages, but that was much harder to research. Unsurprisingly, nobles weren't overjoyed about being asked if they could be test subjects. Right after the war, some scientists had even gone so far to ask if they could have a mage cadaver to look at. But by virtue of the risk they posed, most if not all the magical combatants had been killed by means that tended to destroy the body and make research impossible. What ones weren't were quickly buried in mass graves by the locals or by troops when they died in Earth care.

And while they might have seriously considered the request if they had an intact body on hand and no one was looking, they still wouldn't go so far as to run experiments on a captive mage. Ethics still applied.

The half-elf was a dead end in both biology and magic; they'd been told that elves had a different sort of magic to humans, but Tiffania couldn't offer them anything on that. It might have been her upbringing, but she had no idea on what elven magic could do or how to access it.

What she could offer them was her ring, a gift from her mother. It gave her the ability to cast healing magic, something she'd proven by healing some of the wounded prisoners still taking up space in the base's prison. Apparently creating magically imbued items was a specialty of elves.

They were at another dead end, but at least they could say they make another leap. There was confidence more would be figured out in time.

* * *

Tiffania was walking worriedly alongside a pair of armed guards. Even though she'd done his several times before, she never got any less uneasy. But they insisted there be guards any time she went to talk to Mathilda. It was a prison after all.

She still thought that was incredibly unfair of them to keep her sister in a cell. She finally arrived at the usual room where she would meet Mathilda. The guard opened a door, revealing a small window with a grill in it. Tiffania sat down on the chair facing her sister.

"Hello Mathilda," she said.

"Hello Tiffania, I hope you are doing well."

"We all are." She nodded. "The children absolutely love those plays the guard gave us. 'Frozen' is their favorite."

"I'd love to watch it with them some time."

"Have they said when they're going to let you out, yet?" Tiffania asked the same question she always did on these visits. She still just couldn't conceive people capable of separating so many children from their caretaker knowingly. She'd brought some of the children with her on the first visits, and none of the guards had even batted an eye when they got upset they could only see Mathilda and not have a hug or anything of the sort. What kind of monsters let children cry?

"No. Not yet."

"But why are you treated like a prisoner?" Tiffania asked again, "You are not a criminal!"

"We've been over this. I offended these people and this is the price I have to pay. There is nothing else I can say."

As always, Mathilda would try to brush off the questions that Tiffania had insisted on over and over and turn to more pleasant things.

"How are the children doing though?"

Tiffania didn't like how the conversation had changed again but reluctantly followed it.

"They are doing well. They haven't eaten this well in a long time and the Canadians and Americans have set up some sort of school for them." She told her sister about all the strange and amazing things that they were learning.

"Wonderful."

"They have also learnt a lot of songs from the plays that they've been seeing. Though they could use some practice." Tiffania admitted.

"What about you? Are they treating you well?"

Tiffania nodded.

"Yes, they're very friendly with me," she replied happily, "A lot of them wanted to take pictures with me. Apparently, they've never seen anyone like me."

"Is that so?" Did she see her sister's eye twitch just then? "Well, I'm glad they don't judge you for being half-elf."

"Yes, they really liked it and some wanted to talk to me more."

"Be careful Tiffania," Mathilda said icily, remembering how sheltered the half-elf was, "They are still men like any other."

"Oh…"

"Time's up!" a voice suddenly shouted, making Tiffania jump. "Wrap it up."

"Oh." She said in disappointment. They only let her talk to her sister for fifteen minutes, and somehow it always seemed to be over too quickly. "I wanted to talk more." She said regretfully.

"It's fine, Tiffania." Mathilda assured her. "I enjoy these talks however short they are. Please go take care of the children."

"I'll come back and talk as soon as they let me." Tiffania promised. "Maybe by then they'll let you out."

"Maybe." Her sister didn't dash her hopes. The two women parted with a familiar yet agonizing sense of distance.

* * *

The two screaming masses collided in one noise and soon very bloody flailing of limbs and weaponry. A long range camera recorded from a nearby treeline. The sight on this one lonely field wasn't uncommon. In fact, it was becoming more common by the day in Albion.

With the Tudors' dead, no one had a blood claim to the Throne of Air. With Cromwell gone, no had a right to it as conqueror either. So it stood empty until the remaining nobles of the land decided it needed to be filled. Anything but a monarchy was unacceptable; these people couldn't live without it. So, the nobles gathered to determine which family would now take up position as a royal bloodline.

Talk had lasted only a single day before they decided to settle the matter through blood.

It wasn't just fighting for the crown now either. With so many heads of families, heirs, and key nobles dead from the invasion and retaliatory airstrikes, their families were considerably weakened or there was no ownership of the land all together as entire lineages had collapsed. A lot of nobles had started to try and take what was either free or easy to conquer, trying to amass power and wealth enough to validate a claim to rulership.

Manors were burned. Holdings razed. Farms were being either ransacked or destroyed to deny them to another power. Even the churches that had been spared by Cromwell had become valid targets. To the horror of many of its citizens, blood flowed once more in the White Country as Albion was embroiled in a another civil war, and this time it looked like there was no charismatic leader to rise up and save them.

The armed conflicts, at least, were relatively small. The angry mass fighting right now only had less than two hundred men in it. Cromwell had taken a lot of local troops and experienced leaders with the promise they'd be returned with riches. Now, surviving nobles had to rebuild from almost nothing. A lot of the men out there clumsily swinging swords, clubs and maces had only gotten their weapon that morning. Crude standards flew in the wind as these hastily levied-men fought over war-torn lands. It was an ugly affair. There was no tactics involved, no strategy or planning whatsoever. Hastily assembled masses of men were just being thrown at each other with their leaders praying to Brimir for victory.

It was something the intelligence agencies had been watching for the last few days with a sense of detachment. To them, an invasion would've been a good idea; nobody here was going to have the power to establish control over the whole of Albion. But it wasn't their call to make.

They were only here to observe as the country sped towards its own self-imposed demise. What would happen was up to their leaders.

* * *

"Interesting."

In one of his private studies, Joseph was reading one of the books that Tabitha had sent to him at his request. He had asked her about any books about the Earth leaders whose nations were present in Halkeginia. This Donald Trump that he reading about was frankly an aberration to him. A commoner merchant writing about his own life and business deals? Ridiculous, arrogant and pretentious! In his mind, only those born of noble blood should have the right to have their lives remembered in History.

"Master Joseph?"

"Enter Sheffield. I am finishing up my reading about Donald Trump for the night," he said as he disdainfully put down _'Trump: The Art of the Deal'_.

"Oh? Has it been productive?" she asked as she sat down across him. Joseph scoffed.

"Hmmph. As interesting as reading about a commoner who enriched himself through luck! Truly disgusting to see such a man become leader of a nation."

"During my time in Albion, I had a spy reporting on the United States. It is not surprisingly to see such a man rise to power in a nation known to be one of merchants."

Joseph's eyes narrowed in disgust as she continued.

"And yet this nation is the most powerful and wealthy one on the other side of the portal. Have you begun reading about that silly boy; Justin Trudeau?"

"No." Joseph shook his head.

"If anything, he seems to be rather naïve, believing that all people can coexist if they find 'common ground'." Sheffield mocked the last two words, "It seems that his nation is built on that principle."

"Fools," Joseph said with a bored expression before changing the subject, "Has your little project gone well?"

Sheffield smiled sinisterly as she looked out the window. Word of negotiations between Tristainia and Germania had reached them, and suddenly Joseph decided there might still be a little fun to have. So, he'd had Sheffield get in contact with some unconventional friends she'd made in Albion.

"Yes my master. Everything should be done in a week. If Tristain doesn't seek to invade Albion now, they certainly will after our little...encouragement."

* * *

The Musketeers had always been a small and elite force, its number rarely rising above 80. After the bloody mess that had been the coronation, it only had 38 members in its ranks. But they were no less capable or dedicated to protecting the Queen. And today, they were getting better tools for the job.

The trading of military technology was still off the table. No matter what happened, that was not a line America and Canada were willing to cross. They were inflicting enough of a cultural shock with non-lethal tech sharing. If they introduced arms into the equation, things would just get ugly. With Julio poking around and all these mentions of heresy, anything that could make killing easier was being held very close to the chest.

But warfare and internal security were very different things. Or you could at least argue the point; A lot of politics was twisting definitions. With that in mind, the Musketeers being granted some Earth technology wasn't exactly modernizing a foreign armed forces. They weren't being given any new weapons.

Henrietta had had some Earth currency saved up from the crown's direct trade with the realm. A lot of it was going to reconstruction now, but she'd requested to her connections to the other world if there were perhaps any negotiations that could be had in helping improve her Musketeers- her personal guards.

Her request had actually ended up at the highest levels on the American and Canadian governments where it got debated for a while. But given Henrietta's importance, the loyalty of the Musketeer force, and all the shortcomings the coronation had revealed in security procedures, both countries had decided that a little aid would be acceptable.

To that end, the Musketeers were becoming the first, and intentionally only, force in Halkegenia that would have the advantage of radio communications. It was a private contract signed with a private security firm based in the US that would come give the Musketeers the necessary training and maintain the small amount of infrastructure that would have to be installed to make it practical. America and Canada had subsidized the cost, and there was a three way agreement to fund the maintenance. It wasn't the only thing the Musketeers were getting however.

They were getting outfitted with tasers. Minister Richemont's demise rather than capture might have had something to do with the decision… though some of the instructors wondered if the old man's heart would have been able to handle the shock. Either way, there was no harm in giving the Musketeers a capability to easily capture suspects or other people. The training in that was much shorter, but entailed a certain process.

"We have a little tradition in our world for police forces who use these tasers." the instructor said as he produced his own while the women looked at him curiously, "Essentially, you each get to experience the wonderful effects of a taser first hand."

"Excuse me?" Agnes asked, slightly stupefied, "Did you really say that?"

"Oh yes. You need to understand its power before you can use it on other people. Now who's willing to start?" There was uncertainty in everyone's expression. Obviously, no one fancied being on the receiving end of a weapon when they'd been lectured on its power.

"I will." Agnes stepped boldly forward. She was interested in this special type of gun. And if that was what it took, so be it. Besides, she felt confident she could handle it.

"I'm going to have to ask you to remove your metal armour though. It might cause some complications and this is just a safe test. To ensure your safety, your colleagues will brace you so that you won't injure yourself if you fall."

"Understood."

The Chevalier removed her heavy chestplate before the instructor told her to move a fair distance away from him. He then instructed two of Agnes' fellow Musketeers to stand on either side of her and hold her up. "Because otherwise, you _will_ fall to the ground." He explained.

The Musketeers held their commander as the instructor raised his weapon.

"You ready?"

"Yes." Agnes braced herself. The instructor took aim and fired, two of the prongs shortly after hitting the woman. Agnes was a soldier. She'd had her fair share of training incidents. She'd fallen off horses or gotten kicked by them. Injured by overenthusiastic sparring partners. And not too long ago had fought off multiple assassins despite grievous injuries. She thought she could handle pain.

But this taser was something else… her entire body locked up, every muscle painfully seizing up and refusing to move as she cried out in pain for a brief instance. She had barely registered the crackling sound it made before she was sinking to her knees. The energy ceased of all suddenly. Agnes tried to catch her breath, her body still wracked by lingering pain.

"I… understand… what… you... meant... earlier," she replied between breaths. The man nodded.

"I assume I've convinced all of you of how useful something like this will be?"

Everyone nodded, realizing the power of a non-lethal weapon, then noticeably flinched when he spoke again.

"Who's next?"

* * *

Henrietta stood in the Palace's war room as she and General du Poitier looked over the latest recruitment reports coming in. With them was an American officer and a few other assistants who were going through reports with them. The numbers for the Royal Army were swelling quickly, although many of them were still being trained. A great many people from here in the Capital and the other holdings in the Kingdom were coming to enlist. It also helped that many holdings had fallen under her direct rule, opening up her manpower pool drastically.

Some sought vengeance, having been left with nothing. Some sought to defend their homes from future attack. Others were seeking new work. A few had even discovered they quite liked battle. Whatever the reason, they'd come by the thousands to the mustering fields. They had more men in training than the standing Royal Army had had soldiers pre-war! Training and equipping so many men was simply impossible with the means that Henrietta disposed.

She had a low amount of support from her allies. America and Canada were still providing rations for her people, troops included, and they'd given some tents for the recruits to use. The amount of help they could give though it was getting smaller by the day; they were downsizing, sending many of their soldiers home and leaving only enough to help with the rebuilding and aid distribution.

"Pardon me, your Majesty." the American logistics officer said, "But you will not be able to sustain such a rapid expansion. At this rate, you'll reach the limit of the supplies that we can grant you right now."

Henrietta and Du Poitier looked at him for a moment.

"Are you certain?" she asked quietly.

"Yes. You'll expend the supplies for this month in about two weeks," he replied, "And I'm afraid that our hands are tied."

Henrietta sighed. While her allies had her back in defending Tristain, it was another matter when it came to invading Albion. She suspected they were holding back to prevent it. All the more reason to prove Tristain could do it on its own.

"Thank you for warning me," she said, "General du Poitier, would it possible for us to slow down the current recruitment?"

"Yes your Majesty," he replied as the American logistic officer leaned back his chair in thought.

"Would it possible for these men to be used elsewhere?" Henrietta asked suddenly as an idea came to mind.

"Perhaps," du Poitier replied, "What is your idea your Majesty?"

"There are still regions that are still undergoing reconstruction. We could perhaps use these men to help rebuild until we have the means to train them?" Henrietta proposed, "It would shorten the people's suffering if we can rebuild faster."

"That is a wise idea your Majesty," du Poitier admitted, "But we may have difficulties in convincing them when they have joined to take up arms rather than hammers and saws."

"Maybe not." the logistician said, his face deep in thought, "But you might be able to help them sell the idea. They've seen us in in action enough here in the Capital."

He paused for a second as he ran the idea through his mind.

"Could be also a way to show the countryside that their Queen cares about them too."

"Very then. How can we organize this?" Henrietta said. She'd spend the rest of her afternoon discussing with her own people and her allies, but by the end of the day they were already setting up an information campaign and a training program that would make all those excess recruits useful.

At least until Henrietta could get weapons into their hands like she wanted.

* * *

The two moons shone brightly above as many of students of the Tristain Academy were entering the dining hall. Others hung around in various parts of the Academy. Sumptuous food was being laid out on the tables, some of it new additions from Chef Marteau's new Earth recipe books. Malicorne drooled in excitement as he watched the food being served. Tabitha was in the dorms putting away the new novel she was reading while Kirche was flaunting her newest clothes that she had gotten from Earth to some lovestruck male admirers. Meanwhile, Colbert was discussing with Richer and Leroy about their latest successful experiments with steam engines and magic at the professors' table.

No one seemed to have noticed that Montmorency wasn't present. In another part of the Academy, she was sitting in the psychologist's makeshift office discussing with him while two MP's stood guard outside. Meanwhile, Guiche taking a walk on the grounds as he enjoyed the sounds of peace. He'd come all the way from the Capital, intending to take his girlfriend out on a late night date to celebrate his promotion in rank by the Queen. It otherwise seemed to be business as usual tonight as everyone went on with their daily lives.

However, a group of a dozen men stood waiting outside in the nearby treelines. They were a mixed bunch. Some were mercenaries while others were Albionian soldiers who had survived since the invasion, now under the only employment that wouldn't get them executed. Two had only joined up tonight, driven by ideology rather than money like the others.

They were watching as the lights started to go off one by one in the main building as more and more people went to bed. They were also glancing over towards the portal a fair distance away. The lights were still on, but there wasn't any activity that they could see. No carriages going in and out.

They stayed there watching for activity for a while. Finally, a massive, silvered haired man stood up, his brutally scarred face contorting in a smile as he raised his staff and stepped out of the treeline. His party soon followed him. They strode across the ground, quickly but confidently, towards the Academy's unguarded gates.

* * *

Guiche and Montmorency were walking inside one of the hallways after she finished her meeting.

"I am very happy for you my dear Guiche," Montmorency said as she looked at her boyfriend. It was apparent that the war had changed him. He looked more serious, more focused now. The way he carried himself in his military uniform made him seem more like a man than ever before.

"Thank you Montmorency. Never would I have thought that I would be honored in such a way," he replied as he looked at the medals on his chest, "Have you been able to find peace at night?"

The girl sighed.

"It is getting easier," she replied, "My dreams are slowly getting peaceful now."

"I am happy to hear that. It seems that your beauty has not been tarnished though," Guiche complimented, "If anything, you appear more radiant than before. Have you changed anything my dear flower?"

Montmorency giggled… it seemed that the Earth makeup was working.

"Ah, but it is the secret of a maiden."

"Secrets?" Guiche stopped and put a hand under her chin. "With me still, my dear?" He leaned in close, making her blush bright red. Suddenly the sound of boots thumping nearby caused both of them to separate, concerned about being caught by a groundskeeper or some other academy staff.

A man appeared at the end of the corridor they were in, and at a distance they couldn't immediately tell what he was wearing. Then when he caught sight of them he suddenly began to charge towards the pair. Montmorency shrieked, but Guiche's face hardened as he shoved his girlfriend behind him and drew his sword in one smooth motion, his reflexes kicking in. "Halt!" He thundered. Instead, the interloper raised his weapon.

And was met with cold steel as Guiche blocked the blow and stood his ground. Their blades clashed but it was apparent who had the advantage as the young noble skillfully parried each sloppy blow from his opponent. A clumsy strike missed its mark clearly before a well placed blow slashed into the unknown assailant's arm and he screamed in agony. Guiche didn't hesitate to finish him off.

More thundering bootsteps, this time behind them. Montmorency stared behind her fearfully, but then appeared the American soldiers. They and the doctors had been packing up for the day to return to the checkpoint when they heard the commotion.

"What's happening here?!" one of the soldiers shouted as he pointed his M4 at the fallen man.

"We don't know. This man appeared and attacked us." Guiche reported calmly. A quick glance at the masked man confirmed that he was definitely hostile, his dirty clothing being far too reminiscent of an Albionian uniform, something the American didn't miss.

"What are these people doing here?" one of the soldiers in surprise, "There's no way that stragglers would attack here of all places."

Meanwhile, the other one was already radioing in to the portal checkpoint about the incident. The MPs and medical personnel took up positions there in a nearby room. Command was sending out more MPs. They'd get in contact with the Academy staff and sweep the structure for intruders before getting them the hell out of there. Guiche and Montmorency were commanded to stay with them for their own safety. The small party waited with tense breath, trying their hardest to ignore the smell from the fresh corpse that was already making the blonde noble light headed.

"Fear not," Guiche held his girlfriend close as both tightened their grip on their wand or sword. "I'm here. We'll get through whatever this is."

* * *

At the same time, the rest of the intruders were already ransacking the dorms, having subdued the staff first. The sounds of doors being smashed open resonated throughout the hallways followed by shrieks of terror. One man burst into a luxurious room with Germanian styled decorations… only to find it empty. The wind blew through the curtains, the window having been left open.

On the roof above, Kirche blew a sigh of relief as she and Tabitha caught their breaths. By a turn of chance, both were wide awake when they heard the thumping and screaming. Tabitha had called Sylphid to the window and they'd fled the dorms just in time to reach a part of the roof.

"We must get help!" Kirche exclaimed, "This is terrible!"

"We must wait until they start leaving the dorm," Tabitha said calmly.

Tabitha nodded as she looked into the distance. The lights were still on at the guard post near the trade station. The two girls kept watching as their friends were led out of the dorms. Finally, the last group entered the main building. Both girls got back on Sylphid and took off with all possible haste towards the trading post. As they landed, they saw a group of MP's patrolling the grounds with their dogs. The base had already gotten the distress call from the small team in the Academy and a response force was just about to leave.

"Halt! What are you doing here at this time?" their commander shouted as she saw the girls land.

"Thank the Founder!" Kirche shouted, "Something terrible has happened at the Academy!"

"What?" the woman asked calmly.

"Men came into the Academy and have taken everyone hostage!" Kirche explained. The soldier's expression hardened.

"Come me with right away!"

* * *

Terrified students had been forced out of their rooms without a chance of fighting back and dragged to the main banquet hall, some having terrible flashbacks of the recent war. As they arrived, they saw their teachers and headmaster as well as the commoner servants and Earth scientists bound by magical ropes. Fear increased exponentially in the room as the last group of men entered with their hostages.

Old Osmond stared defiantly at the leader despite his iron mask and cold white eye.

"What do you want?" the headmaster asked but was met with laughter, "This is a place of learning and teaching!"

"It is very simple you blasphemer!" one replied mockingly, "We want the Lord-Protector to be returned to us!" Osmond's eyes widened in shock as the man ranted about putting an end to the unholy pact between Tristain and Earth and breaking down Pope Vittorio's power. The students that overheard suddenly looked even more terrified. No doubt that they wanted vengeance for the defeats that had befallen them. Some were already lecherously eying the girls gathered there.

"Do you really think that our leaders would let themselves them be intimidated by some thugs like you!" a scientist shouted back in annoyance.

"Enough." The apparent leader of these brutes silenced the man's rambling, "We seek many things today! Do as we say and you won't be harmed by our flames."

He walked around, each step taken as threateningly as possible.

"Any foolishness… and I will burn you!" he roared, "The temptation is…"

And suddenly he stopped, right in front of where Colbert and two of the scientists from Earth had been dropped on the ground. Colbert's eyes widened as he suddenly recognized the man.

"This temperature… it is… familiar to me! Could it be? Could it be?" The man leaned down right into Colbert's face, and the scholarly mage could see an eye devoid of sight but somehow still full of rage, madness and hatred.

Menvil was almost frothing at the mouth, unnerving the Earth scientists even more.

"Yes… yes! It is the temperature that I have seeked."

"Menvil…" Colbert breathed quietly, lowering his eyes.

"You know him?!" Richer exclaimed as he looked at both men. The other staff were looking at Colbert too.

"He is... an old acquaintance." Colbert stated simply, " But I hadn't figured him for an Reconquista sympathiser." And suddenly Menvil roared with maniacal laughter.

" _Old acquaintance_?! Just that… Captain!?"

"Captain?" Leroy was trying to understand this turn of events, and why Colbert looked so uneasy and guilty all of a sudden.

"Why didn't Enjya the Flame Snake tell you who he was?!"

Confusion appeared on their faces, but their audience with the madman was suddenly cut short.

The man Menvil had posted watching the front gate suddenly came running in. "There are lights approaching the grounds!" Ah, so there they were. Good; they could make their demands now than wait till the morning. Menvil roughly grabbed a random teenage girl from the crowd and, ignoring her panicked screams and her friends struggling in their bindings to try and stop him, went outside the greet the newcomers.

* * *

The distress call had been answered immediately, and only a few minutes later two Humvees and two G-Wagons full of MPs were speeding away from the portal towards the Tristain Academy of Magic. They were just heading through the gates when Kirche and Tabitha's warning got relayed to them. As they sped into the yard and stopped in front of the main doors, the head lights shone over a disturbing sight: a giant disfigured man with an iron mask over the left side of his face, holding a massive staff to a teenage girl being held in front of him.

"Stop right there!" he called out in a deep voice, "Not one step further or she burns!" The doors on the utility vehicles opened and American and Canadian MPs spread out while the fact was radioed back to base.

"Identify yourself!" One of the Earth lieutenants ordered, but the man laughed as he jabbed the girl.

"I am Menvil! My men and me have just taken this whole academy hostage!" He declared. "We have not harmed any of them. Yet." He pressed the staff to his hostage's neck once again. "But we will unless our demands are met!"

The MP's clenched their teeth. It didn't look like this was one crazy fanatic.

"What do you want?" The same lieutenant asked calmly despite sweat building up in his helmet.

"We have three demands!" He held up three fingers. "Listen well because I will only say them once!" He made sure he had their full attention. "Oliver Cromwell will be released from his prison!" And with that demand, the gathered soldiers immediately knew what kind of situation this was. "We demand a sum of of 1000 écus per hostage! Lastly, we demand safe passage from this place with our ransom earnings!" He pointed the staff at them. "Tell your leaders and tell the Queen. That shouldn't be too hard for the likes of you. If our demands aren't met by this time tomorrow..." He glanced down at his hostage. "There will be ashes."

"We'll need time to get all that together." The lieutenant warned.

"So be it. Now leave these grounds." Menvil ordered. "If me or any of my men see your kind inside the walls, the hostages will perish in flames." The MPs started to back up, reconverging around their vehicles. The man's demands were relayed back, and the order to pull back was given.

"We'll move. Tristainian authorities will be here to negotiate with you soon." The lieutenant informed the hostage taker. Menvil watched as they got back in their carriages and left the yard, stopping just outside the gates.

* * *

Henrietta was stirred in her bedchambers by someone urgently shaking her shoulder. The young woman had finally gotten a reasonable sleep schedule back, but now it was being disturbed. "Henrietta! Henrietta, you must wake up!" It was her mother. Tristain's Queen raised her head quickly and caught sight of her mother's concerned face over the candle she was holding.

"M-mother?" she said groggily, "W-what is happening?" She sat up.

"There is a crisis in the Kingdom," the archduchess said urgently.

Henrietta immediately threw off her covers and jumped out of bed.

"What is happening?!" the Queen seemed to have lost any lingering sleepiness.

"It's the Academy. We have received terrible news. Unknown men have taken the students and staff as hostages!"

"WHAT!" Henrietta shouted in an unladylike fashion, "Send for Agnes immediately!" She threw off her sleepwear and hurried into something more combat oriented.

"America and Canada are already moving their troops to the grounds. The Ambassadors have been trying to reach you. They say…" Her mother appeared uncertain. "They say they're demanding Cromwell be released in exchange for the students' safety." Henrietta froze, eyes bulging and cold terror seeping into her heart as she finished dressing.

"Mother, please wait for me in my study. I shall not take long." she said with cold determination. She grabbed her staff and sword and stalked down the corridors, past late night palace servants who seemed surprised to see her up this late. As she walked, she realized that the heretical leader had maybe set up a contingency should anything happen to him… no doubt that it needed preparations before being executed. It disgusted her profoundly.

Her angry steps took her to the dungeon.

"Y-your Majesty!" the Tristain guards said as they bowed before her, "Why are you here?"

"It is an emergency. Take me to our dear guest immediately!"

Her sharp tone was not missed by the men who wordlessly took her inside. When she arrived near the cell, the guards from both worlds looked at her quizzically. Faint snoring could be heard in the background

"Your Majesty?" one of them asked.

"There is an hostage crisis at the Academy and M. Cromwell needs to answer for it. Open his cell and do what is necessary to wake him," she coldly ordered.

The cell door swung open as one of the guards entered. The former Reconquista leader looked paler and thinner than last time she had seen him. His hair seemed thinner, no doubt that his stay in Tristain wasn't the most comfortable one.

"HEY WAKE UP SHITHEAD!"

Cromwell slowly stirred to life… only to see a sword pointed at his nose. Despite his throat being hoarse from disuse, his shriek of terror filled the dungeon.

"Good evening M. Cromwell," Henrietta coldly said, her sword still pointing at the cowering man, "I hope you've slept well… because I would like to have a few choice words for you."

"C-come to gloat over me, your Majesty?" he asked mockingly, "Or to confess to your sins?"

Henrietta's eyes grew colder.

"If anything, you are the sinner today! The students have been taken hostage at the Academy by your followers!" Cromwell blinked in surprise before a small smile started to creep onto his face.

"Really?" he asked curiously, implying he had no part in it.

"Yes." Even if he hadn't ordered it, he was still responsible for his followers' actions.

He laughed like a madman.

"Brimir's true followers have once more proven their worth!" he boasted, "If you do not submit to their demands… you will feel our wrath!"

It was truly a spectacular turn of events as his feverish laughter continued. Cromwell didn't know who had done it but would reward them handsomely once everything was done. In his seemingly triumphant haze, he didn't see the seething rage on Henrietta's face as she swung her sword's pommel at his face, knocking him on his side. Pain filled his mind as he looked back up dazedly… only to see a sword come down towards him.

The sound of shrieking and liquid dripping followed by a pungent stench and whimpering filled the cell. But he was unharmed; Henrietta had only cleaved the air next to him. She sheathed the blade while looking at the grown man in front of her who'd just soiled himself. "Pathetic. To think you had caused us so much grief. This is nothing next to the humiliation we will give you." she said disdainfully before turning to the grinning guards.

"I must apologize for this little mess." She told the guards. "Clean him up or leave it. It makes no difference to me." And with that, she strode out of the dungeon to handle the attack.

* * *

Phones rang in the White House and Rideau Cottage, catching the US and Canadian heads of state not long before they were about to turn in for the night. Both men were informed of the terrorist attack not far from the portal and the demands that an enemy head of state be released. It was a foreign policy crisis. The war with Albion had just reignited.

"Those bastards!" Trump roared into his phone at the White House, "Get me Mattis and Trudeau now!"

Trudeau was pacing impatiently as he waited for his transport to arrive to carry him to NDHQ when his secured phone rang.

"You've heard of what happened haven't you?" Trump asked, the faint sound of rotors in the background.

"Yes, these terrorists have taken children hostage." Trudeau replied, his voice steely, "Minister Sajjan, General Vance and General Dawe of CANSOFCOM have all been notified."

"I'll see who my people can send up too." Trump assured confidently. "We'll make sure all those kids are getting out alive! Cromwell's going to answer for this little stunt!"

Moments later, both men had arrived at their respective crisis centers. The conference call was already up and running between Earth and Tristain.

"Good evening your Majesty," Trudeau said tensely.

"Good evening M. Trudeau, M. Trump." Henrietta replied, "I have already tasked Chevalier de Milan and my Musketeers to assist in this crisis. Reconquista will not get away with this."

"You're absolutely right, your Majesty." Trump said, "These terrorists still didn't learn their lesson and now they'll pay the price."

"Has Chevalier de Milan already left?" Trudeau asked quickly.

"She and the Musketeers are currently readying themselves to leave."

"Please, let us help by lending our transports." Trudeau proposed, "We can get her and her forces there within an hour to help."

Henrietta looked to one of her aides and ordered him to stop Agnes from leaving.

"I've already confronted Cromwell." She told them. "He had the audacity to laugh."

"Son of a bitch," Trump growled.

"His audacity did not last long however," Henrietta replied, "The guards are cleaning up after his little accident."

"Have you been able to get anything from him though?" Trump asked more seriously though he and Trudeau had small smiles on their faces.

"I'm afraid that I've only gotten more inane ramblings and bragging about his followers."

The Earth leaders cursed the man.

"Do you know anything about these people?" Trudeau asked.

"I'm afraid that we don't know anything about this group," Henrietta answered.

"Nothing. They might be stragglers from the invasion, although we have no idea how they've lasted this long or how they've become daring enough to do this. Sympathetic locals, maybe." Mattis reported.

"How'd they get in? Doesn't that school have guards?"

"No, since it was expected that the professors would be able to handle any threats," Henrietta admitted, "Their talents for magic was considered sufficient to protect the students up to now."

"Good lord…" Trump muttered to himself while Trudeau silently shook his head.

"What is the plan then? My Musketeers will arrive and help secure the area. We can attempt a rescue as well." Henrietta proposed.

"Please wait your Majesty," Trudeau suggested, "We can work together to solve this crisis."

"Not to mention that our people might have a few tricks that Reconquista never heard of," Trump added, "It will give those kids a better chance."

"I see," Henrietta said after a moment, "But what do you suggest?"

"America does not negotiate with terrorists," Trump declared, "Neither does Canada. Am I right M. Trudeau?"

"Yes. We have no intentions of letting these terrorists gain anything."

"Why are you saying this?" Henrietta asked, perplexed at their declaration.

"We'll buy time by pretending to negotiate with them," Mattis explained, "Time with which our forces can better plan and prepare how to rescue them."

"I simply wanted to make sure that you understand our approach," Trump said. "We've dealt with situations exactly like this, your Highness. Trust us."

"Ok." Henrietta nodded to herself. "I trust you."

* * *

All commercial activity had ceased and the portal area was shut down and secured to allow in more troops of the Royal 22e Régiment to come in and deal with the developing crisis. There was a lockdown for all Earth installations in Halkegenia. The Academy was completely surrounded, the road leading out especially. Blackhawks circled in the air, spotlights dancing over the stone towers and central structure of the castle as the sun hadn't even started to rise yet.

Huynh and his men had taken up position nearby, their weapons ready for anything. The briefing had been short.

" _Reconquista-aligned terrorists have infiltrated the Tristain Academy of Magic and taken the students, staff and faculty hostage in exchange for the liberation of Oliver Cromwell. Secure the perimeter to ensure they can't escape. Negotiators and Special Operations are inbound to handle the situation."_

"Bastards," Brisebois growled under his breath as they kept their eyes open and scanning the surrounding land. They'd have to be stupid to try and slip out now, but you never knew.

"You said it tabarnak. Hope your nice friend isn't inside bro," one of the Canadians asked Brisebois.

"Nah, she's with her family in Tarbes rebuilding their place."

"Lucky her," his friend replied before spitting on the nearby ground, " _Enculés_ should have learned their lesson already."

The Canadian infantrymen were grumbling and itching to give the hostage takers a good lesson if they ran out. Religious fanaticism was something that disgusted them to no end… but getting kids involved? And these were kids the Van Doos knew, hell, kids they'd _fought_ alongside in some cases. These kids _deserved_ their peace.

If they got their chance to confront them somehow, there would be no mercy.

* * *

The morning news in Montreal had one breaking story for all the city's residents as they got ready for the day ahead.

All traffic through the portal was halted once more, and videos taken in the nights had shown military vehicles rushing towards the park. Speculations were thrown around by pundits and social media. Was it another war going on? Requests were already put in to the Canadian Armed Forces public relations department and the Canadian government, but neither was saying anything yet.

The news even got picked up in the US. People refreshed their news feeds looking for more information, and others even watched the President's Twitter feed, ironically the first place news was likely to break. But nothing was there either. Speculation was running rampant in North America all through the morning.

But people finally got an answer then, many still on their commutes to work. News bulletins were interrupted for an emergency statement from the Prime Minister's Office and the Oval Office: Reconquista terrorists had staged an attack. The nature wasn't fully revealed and it was said to be ongoing and Earth citizens were involved, but everyone understood the severity of the situation.

* * *

It had been many hard hours for the staff and students, most of whom had little or no sleep since the previous night. Their weariness was apparent as they struggled to stay awake. Before sunrise, they felt a new pain: hunger. The mercenaries were raiding the kitchen of all the wonderful ingredients and meals Chef Marteau had started to serve recently. They'd mostly turned a blind eye to the staff and students, only paying enough mind that no one tried to get up and leave.

Colbert heard the sound of heavy boots drawing nearer. He had remained the quietest and most unmoving hostage in the whole building ever since he and Menvil recognized each other. His colleagues and friends from Earth had long since given up questioning him on the matter.

But eventually, his old acquaintance decided he wanted to speak to him again.

"Flame Snake, it was quite the pleasure to discover you in this place!" Menvil said, causing Colbert to look up at his old second-in-command, "Do you know how I've longed to meet you once more and feel your heat?"

"The feeling is not shared," Colbert replied quietly.

"Why are you so cold? For one whose flame burned the strongest and hottest amongst our group, I am surprised that a man like you is here. You could be out in the world with us!"

"What are you talking about?" Leroy asked, annoyed at the man's insane words, "Jean is nothing more than a professor at this Acade-"

"A teacher?! Have you really stooped so low?!" Menvil interrupted, "With all your power, you have chosen to be just a teacher?!"

"What's he talking about?" Richer asked again as he noticed Colbert's guilty expression appear.

"It's a part of my past I wish to atone for," the professor said in a low voice, "It was one of my worst mistakes."

"Mistake?! Your deeds were not a mistake! I still remember the intensity you had when we burned down D'Angleterre!" Menvil cackled, "It took only one spell from the Flame Snake that the whole village was lit ablaze! All its residents screaming before being burnt to ashes. It was… amazing."

"You sick bastard!" Richer shouted, "You're lying! Right Jean?"

But Colbert did not answer. He sighed.

"It was… a terrible mistake. I was once a soldier in the King's employ tasked with special missions." He admitted guiltily. "We were ordered to burn down the village because there was a plague that had killed the inhabitants, to prevent its spread. But there wasn't one and no one was sick. We... I didn't realize until after it was too late."

"And then you ran into the flames like a fool." the mercenary mocked, "After you had given me a taste of your raging fire."

"That- that was one of the only thing I did not regret that night. You lost your sanity."

Menvil seemed to smile devilishly as he heard this. He stood up and began to laugh. Harsh, psychotic laughter that echoed throughout the banquet hall and frightened all the students. And then suddenly he grabbed Colbert by the collar of his shirt and hoisted him high.

"You self-righteous bastard!" He snarled, "Do you know how long I've sought you for what you did to me that night?!"

Colbert watched as Menvil reached up to his face. With both hands, he removed his mask and his eye that still shown, revealing it to be a glass fake..

"Since then, I have not been able to see but like a snake… I can sense the temperature around me! And yours still burns brightly!" Colbert gasped at what lay beneath the mask: A hole filled with burnt flesh. Despite how he stomped about them, he had no eyes at all. No vision at all. It was disturbing to think about.

Menvil threw the professor back on the ground and spat on him as he cracked his knuckles.

"And since that day, I've wandered from war to war, building my strength, waiting for the day I would find and finally overwhelm you. Untie him!" He barked on one of his subordinates. "We will duel to reveal who has truly mastered the flames!" He started to laugh to himself.

The binds were cut and Colbert stood. His staff was only on the table behind him with everyone else's weapons. But instead of reaching for it, he took one step towards his former vice-captain and spoke one word. "No."

Menvil's laughter ceased abruptly. "What the hell did you say?!"

"I refuse."

"You _WHAT_?!"

"I have seen enough blood spilt and enough death," Colbert said neutrally, "I have already done enough bloodshed. I will not endanger anyone to satisfy your insane thirst for power."

Menvil screamed with rage and suddenly struck the professor, knocking him to the ground. And with no one to stop him, he descended on the other man and began to relentless punch him. The students began to scream, and the staff and scientists shouted for him to stop, but the brute didn't let up. Specs of blood splattered everywhere.

"WHY!? WON'T?! YOU! FIGHT ME!?" the mercenary roared.

"I… will… not… fight you," Colbert said, his body in great pain as he struggled to catch his breath, "Even if you've joined Reconquista, I will not fight you."

His foe's face contorted in disgust.

"Reconquista?" he snarled with disdain, "I do not care for them… only that our flames face each other once more."

Menvil raised his fist again.

"But if you will not give such a pleasure," he slammed another nasty blow into Colbert's face, "I will break you with my hands! With you dead, my flames will be the strongest! It is the same to me!" They were sure he'd kill Colbert then and there, but fate had other plans.

"The outworlders are calling for you." His lookout reported. With a growl of frustration, Menvil let Colbert fall from his grasp and went out to see.

* * *

The hostage situation had reached its eighth hour by the time everything necessary to resolve it came together. Devers had arrived with some of his own operatives. They had nothing on file about this Menvil guy, but they did provide a detailed map of the Academy they'd made in the early days of contact. Kirche and Tabitha were brought in to verify the details. They stayed in constant contact with the small party that was hold up in the upper floors with two of the students. They were ordered to stay put, since the hostage takers might react violently to everyone if they were discovered.

On the same Chinook with Devers, the 4 man SEAL team based at Clément-sur-Mer arrived with all their gear. The JTF-2 team in Tristania had gotten there only a few minutes before, and several more operators had come through the portal in the middle of the night. More Tier 1 forces were inbound from the US, but they had the forces-not to mention the impulse- to act now. It was summer here in Halkegenia, and the sun would rise early. They wanted to strike while they had the night on their side. But they stayed their hand.

First, they'd negotiate. After sunrise, the first attempt was made. Speakers were pointed towards the Academy.

"Menvil!" the negotiator called out, "We have surrounded the Academy. There is no escape for you or your group! Surrender now and you will treated humanely."

"My terms have not changed!" the man called back with a magically enhanced voice, "If you do not grant us what we have demanded then this Academy will burn!"

"Our governments are working on a possible offer for you!" the negotiator called back, beginning hours of negotiations.

While Menvil and the negotiator exchanged words, the special forces teams and the Musketeers were working on plans to storm the building and rescue the hostages. Barricades were established hastily with troops manning them while helicopters flew overhead, distracting the terrorists.

Meanwhile, amongst the captive students, Malicorne glanced around. The terrified boy couldn't feel his hunger despite not having eaten since yesterday's supper. However, he noticed that a few faces were missing; Kirche, Tabitha and Montmorency weren't there. He also remembered that Guiche was supposed to visit him after meeting with Montmorency. He dared hope that somehow, his friends had escaped.

"Anyone seen Weatherby?" one of the hostage takers asked as he passed by Malicorne, "Been awhile since he was supposed to come back."

"No, wasn't he supposed to search some of the upper floors for anyone hiding there?"

Another man snorted.

"Knowing that idiot, he's probably found himself a little place to sleep somewhere!"

"Of course. Think we should go find'im?"

His question was met with a headshake.

"Boss wants us to stay here, remember? He'll deal with him later."

And so the crisis continued.

* * *

"Are you sure about this idea?" Agnes said as she discussed with the Earth team leaders.

They'd planned to hit the terrorists directly, sneaking troops in through the kitchen and through the main passages. While the front gate was being watched, they weren't watching the interior halls around the entrance to the banquet hall. The kitchen was on the side of the hall. They could breach at the same time and set up a deadly and effective crossfire.

"Absolutely," one of them replied, " It's the best chance we got."

"And my Musketeers will lure out Menvil with a bag of écus." she reaffirmed, "While your snipers will take him and his sentry down."

"Exactly."

"Might I propose a slight modification," Agnes said as an idea formed in her head, "I could very easily arrive with a chest instead and conceal a pistol behind it should anything go wrong. He will be also more enthusiastic about coming out if he sees a chest. " Her ally pondered the idea and discussed it with his own commanders.

"If you can produce a chest to use on such short notice, we might as well. We're doing this thing in the next hour."

"There should be something suitable in the trade post." Agnes said.

"Alright, you and one of my men can find one." He turned to the assembled operators. "The operation is green light, get ready!"

* * *

Negotiations had predictably failed. There was only one course of action left to take, and at 8:49 that morning, just under eleven hours since it began, the crisis ended.

On the surface, the terrorists' plan was sound- by herding everyone into the banquet hall, they only had two avenues to guard: the main doors, and the kitchen. With the hall so close to the front doors, they had a perfect warning system if anyone entered the grounds through the front gates. But every plan had flaws, and it was always things they didn't consider.

The main building was connected by enclosed walkways to four towers built into the Academy walls. Those towers were where the classes took place. Two of them were behind the Academy, at an angle where anyone standing close enough to the front of the building couldn't see them. That blind spot was the way in.

The mercenaries had grown used to the noise of helicopters throughout the night, so they paid no mind when three flew over the back of the Academy. The SEALs rappelled down onto one of the walkways from a Blackhawk, and twelve JTF-2 operators rappelled from two Griffons on the other. Both broke windows and climbed their way into the walkways. Earth forces had entered the Academy. Three different head camera feeds were feeding information to Earth, mission control at the portal, and Halkegenia HQ in Tristania. Henrietta was at the latter location too, watching tensely with the American and Canadian officers. Julio was behind them.

As they entered the main building, Agnes left the barricade with a chest full of écus but also with a pistol hidden behind it. Two Musketeers flanked her, theirs swords and pistols sheathed.

"Menvil! Our leaders have agreed to begin paying the écus you have demanded!"

Hidden snipers watched as she entered through the front gate to draw Menvil out. Every time he'd come out so far, he'd had the same hostage in front of him, one that only went up to his chest. It's be a hard shot, but with his whole head showing a sniper could take him out. His lookout would be neutralized at the same time. The shots and the breach of the banquet hall would be as close to simultaneous as possible.

That plan went to shit almost immediately when, instead of the teenage girl shorter than him, Menvil came out holding a much taller-and beaten- Colbert in front of him. The bloodied, dazed professor looked barely conscious as the mercenary used him as a shield. The massive man had a stone-like look on his face as dragged Colbert with him towards Agnes and the musketeers.

"I have the enemy leader in sight," Agnes said into her throat mike as Menvil drew nearer.

"Yeah, we see him." They'd given her a small earpiece too. "Stick to the plan. We'll figure something out."

"I see that you have listened to my demands," he said, almost disappointed, "Shame really, I always looking forward to unleashing my flame."

Agnes' teeth clenched slightly in disgust at the man's words.

"Her Majesty values her subjects' lives highly," she said, "Within this chest is 1000 écus for the first hostage."

"Open it!" Menvil demanded, "Prove to me that this is not a trap of any kind!"

"Only if you release one hostage first." Agnes calmly replied, hiding her disgust of the man The professor was not looking good at all, "Perhaps M. Colbert here?"

"I refuse!" The man snarled with sudden ferocity. "I have searched him for years, and I will not lose him now!" Agnes had no idea what he was talking about, but she tried to keep him busy. "What about a student, then?" She proposed. Despite his scowl, the man seemed to be calming down after his outburst, a precious few seconds to the clock. Inside, one of the JTF-2 teams was already moving through the servants' corridors towards the kitchens, and the other two were heading downstairs at the same time, their agile footsteps making barely any noise.

"30 more seconds." The operation leader said through the ear piece.

"Perhaps you require more time?" Agnes asked, "If that is the case, I will return with my chest."

She moved one foot back while still facing her opponent but the man stopped her.

"No!" He shouted. "Open that chest and I will go get a student for you!" Menvil bargained.

"Set it down on the ground." The leader told her. "If he bends over, we can get a shot. The teams are in place."

"Very well," Agnes set it down at her feet, unlocked it while keeping it faced towards around for him to see before stepping back and to the side. A quick trick of the hand while she bent over allowed her to conceal the pistol that was behind it. Menvil stepped forward and peered down over Colbert's shoulder into the chest, grinning in satisfaction at the shiny silver and gold.

"Go get one of those brats and bring them out here!" He ordered his look out, and when he did, he turned his body to the side. It wasn't the opportunity they'd expected, but it was an opportunity they took. A sniper shot sudden struck Menvil right in his side, destroying numerous organs as it passed right through and hit the wall behind him. Colbert fell from the man's grip to the ground. Somehow, Menvil still stood standing even as his guts spilled out till Agnes drew her pistol and fired it right at his head, finally making him collapse. He'd already been dead, but that last shot was for satisfaction's sake.

Another crack resonated right after, followed by the sound of a body falling. The sentry had barely registered his leader being shot before a round blew his chest out all over the wall behind him.

At the same time, flashbangs were hurled into the banquet hall from the entrance and from the kitchen. Bright light enveloped the room, disorienting hostages and hostage takers alike. Cries of panic mixed with the sound of gunfire. Bodies, wands and weapons fell as the terrorists went down to pinpoint upper body shots. Within less than 20 seconds, they all lay dead and the shooting had stopped.

"Clear!" a series of voices yelled in Albionese, frightening the students.

"Canadian Army! You're safe now!" a voice yelled in French as one of the operatives tried to calm everyone down immediately, "You'll be alright everyone! Secure the hostages! Check for any wounded!"

Agnes and several of her Musketeers ran in. The JTF-2 leader raised a thumb, confirming the good news wordlessly.

"Professor Colbert is already taken care of!" Agnes reported.

"Good! Help us untie everyone!"

Meanwhile, in another part of the Academy, Guiche, Montmorency and the medical and guard team finally left the room they'd been trapped in for the entire night with the knowledge of their classmates being held hostage just a few floors below them. Four of Earth's most fearsome warriors had found them and stayed with them for several minutes until the other soldiers had staged a daring rescue. Now, it was time to leave. They were going to escape the Academy with the special forces team.

"Fret not my beloved," Guiche said reassuringly to his nervous girlfriend, "Men like these saved my father and my life during the Battle of Tristainia. These warriors are highly skilled."

As they got downstairs, they saw many other students leaving the banquet hall, most of them still in their pajamas. Their steps were uncertain, as if they couldn't process what just happened to them.

"We're safe," Montmorency breathed out in relief. Soldiers were streaming into the Academy grounds to help carry the weak and wounded. Colbert was carefully being put into a carriage that had a red cross painted on its hood. Everyone, staff and students, were led away to the temporary camp set outside for treatment and a hot meal while the Academy was searched.

* * *

Back on Earth, there was relief. While Trump and Trudeau had excused themselves during the night for quick naps, Henrietta had been up the whole night.

"Thank your boys for me, that was good work. Same goes for your ladies, your Majesty." Trump told Trudeau and Henrietta over their conference call.

"You're welcome M. Trump," both of them said.

"I've already told my people to get medical supplies up there. We'll keep everyone taken care of till the Academy and your Kingdom is safe."

"Same for us," Trudeau added.

"Thank you," Henrietta replied.

"We'll send out a communiqué to our countries this afternoon," Trump stated, "Everyone's already asking questions and we need to get everything under control."

"How bad is it on your side?" Henrietta asked.

"There's a lot of rumours and tall tales flying about right now," Trudeau explained, "I'm not going to bore you with their content. What will be the nobles' reactions in your Kingdom?"

"They will demand blood for this even if no one has been harmed. I have no doubt that they will pressure the crown into accepting Germania's proposal of invading Albion. They will also demand that Cromwell be immediately killed for this affront."

Trump merely groaned at the added complications.

"What about your people?" Henrietta asked.

"There's no doubt that the people of Canada and the United States will be angry. Harming children is a very barbaric notion in our world," Trudeau said, "No doubt that they'll want punishment for those responsible."

"Probably not enough to get support for a war though." Trump interjected. "Listen, can you assure us you won't let your people go crazy over there?"

"I will do what I can but as I have said, the nobility will not take this easily," Henrietta replied, "And I will understand their anger. They will demand retaliation for this, especially after the war we've just had. Albion has once more gone too far."

Her tone was laced with anger.

"Do your best to calm everyone down on your side." Trudeau proposed, "Perhaps we can expedite the trial preparations for Cromwell to calm them. Believe me, your Highness. We've dealt with people who do dirty tricks like this before. The best thing to do is not respond to them, or else they'll think it's a good tactic."

Trudeau knew that his words had a good chance of falling on deaf ears but it didn't hurt to try.

"Because if you kill your enemies, they win?" Something in Trump's sarcastic tone made that comment seem off to Henrietta, but she didn't inquire.

"No, because this might encourage more terror attacks from any Cromwell sympathizers," Trudeau replied flatly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"The terrorists are dead. They can celebrate that." Trump pointed out.

"Yes but a group of 'terrorists' dead is most likely not enough to satisfy the nobles," Henrietta said, bringing the conversation to point zero.

"This is getting us nowhere," Trudeau sighed as he massaged his temples, "The best thing we can do right now is announce the good news to everyone first before deciding what to do next."

"Wait a minute," Trump spoke up, "The good guys won and life can go on."

"Excuse me M. Trump?" Henrietta asked.

"I think what he meant to say is that Reconquista failed again. We can easily spin this as a sign of them getting weaker and desperate. We won again and, even better, no one except the enemy died. They are no longer a credible threat to any of us and we can continue our efforts to rebuild your kingdom," Trudeau explained.

"I understand what you mean. If we phrase this correctly, we may be able to calm the nobles down enough." Henrietta realized.

"Exactly your Majesty!" Trump said. "And that's all we need to do to hold off calls for an invasion?"

"Not exactly, M. Trump. The Academy is a international institution. There were students from other Kingdoms, Germania especially. I feel that Emperor Albert will be very angry with me for not choosing to retaliate after this."

"Frankly, your Highness, he can say what he wants." the president replied bluntly, "You are not his country and you have no reason to give him anything."

"There's no risk of any of your people rebelling over this, I hope?" Trudeau asked worriedly.

"No, they will not rebel as far as I know but there will be insubordination," Henrietta explained, "They'll make decision making more difficult and it will also be harder to enact any policy change."

There was silence for a moment before Trudeau spoke up.

"Well, as I've said, we can start relaying the good news to everyone at least and see how everyone reacts first. It will be a good start for now."

"Yes, let us do so." Henrietta agreed, and the three national leaders disconnected. They had populations to reassure.

 **Author's endnote: Well that was a messy chapter. Hope you enjoyed reading it as much we enjoyed writing it. Don't forget to review and we'll see you in the next chapter.**


	20. Chapter 18: Marching to war

**Disclaimer: FoZ/ZnT belong to the departed Noboru Yamaguchi and whoever inherited the I.P.. Any real life organisation/person is merely being used in a fictional non-profit way.**

 **Authors Note: A small correction and recton from the last chapter, but Julio doesn't have a wand. That was a mistake on our part and has been corrected, thank you to Robo Reader for informing us. As we take elements for this story from the light novel and anime, we get a few things mixed up along the way. Since Julio was shown as a exchange student at the academy, we just assumed. Kudos to that same reviewer for his suspiciously accurate foresight on where the plot is heading.**

 **Also, Japan lowered the age of majority now… it's 18.**

 **As for Earth's impact on Tristain and Halkegenia in general, it has happened, we just haven't spelled it out so much. We figured the last few chapters would make it obvious how much they're appreciated by the locals in wake of the war. It is slow since the commoners aren't very rich to start with so buying merchandise from Earth is quite difficult. Also, Canada and the US aren't going to meddle in the local nobility's affairs in order to push for equality… not to mention that the average commoner isn't literate and is used to how their society is hierarchical. For them, Earth's far more egalitarian society is a very distant utopia that they can barely dream of while working their fields. Their conditions have begun improving though... Hell, there's even a wealthy commoner merchant class now.**

 **Hope you enjoy this chapter… as always, please leave us a review.**

 **Marching to war**

Colbert sat up in his bed and gazed out the windows of the small hospital that had been built next to the portal. It had been nearly a week since the hostage crisis. He thought, anyway; the last few days had been a strange haze for him. He remembered seeing faces hovering over him in worry and brief moments of consciousness, but little else. But now he was coherent and slowing healing, still confined to a bed for most of the day.

"Good morning Professor Colbert," a voice said, surprising him, "Can you hear me?" He turned towards the open door to his room to see M. Devers in the doorway. Agnes was too.

"Yes."

His throat scratched from disuse as he spoke.

"I hope you are doing better. Our doctors and your Water mages have been doing their best to help you," Devers said politely.

"I feel better," Colbert answered. While there was lingering pain, it was much better than when he was first brought in.

"Splendid," Agnes said simply, "M. Devers has a few questions for you regarding the men that took everyone hostage. I'm here as a witness to ensure they don't overstep their bounds."

"Going to be very honest with you, Colbert. We heard some bad things." Devers warned while Agnes's eyes narrowed. "We have a lot of questions."

Colbert's head lowered.

"Ah, about my past and Menvil?" He guessed

"Yes." The spy confirmed. Colbert sighed.

"Very well, M. Devers. Ask your questions. I will be truthful."

"Is it true that you have known this man before?"

"Yes."

"How?"

Colbert closed his eyes in guilt.

"A long time ago, I was the commander of a special group of mages for King Henry and Menvil was my second-in-command," he explained, "We were all specialized in Fire magic and we were in charge of missions that the Royal Army or noble armies could not handle."

"Things the King wouldn't admit to?" Devers guessed.

"Yes, we generally received orders directly from him," Colbert explained, "Or his closest associates in government. If Minister Richemont was still alive, he would confirm; he handed us orders on several occasions."

"Okay, we'll just assume for now Richemont was still loyal during this time." Devers explained, "What was the nature of these orders?"

"To destroy or eliminate dangers to the King and kingdom. It could be dangerous heretics, foul monsters, or dissident groups."

' _A mix of Black Ops and Secret Police,'_ Devers mused internally. Now just an unassuming professor. What had happened?

"Menvil mentioned one mission in particular, D- something. And that this was the last time you saw him? And that you apparently critically wounded him?"

"Yes- the village of D'Angleterre, the worst mistake I've ever made." Colbert didn't notice Agnes's eyes widen and continued to speak. "We received information from Minister Richemont that the village's population had been wiped out by a sudden plague. The Minister and his Majesty wanted it razed as quickly as possible to ensure that it would not spread to the nearby towns and villages."

"Go on."

"After we had arrived and sealed off the area, I...I cast the most powerful flame spell that I knew and set the entire village alight. Then we heard screaming, and saw people running from their homes… one of my men ran into the town, trying to understand… There was no apparent sign of plague or unusual death."

"What had happened?" Devers pressed.

"I would later find out that Minister Richemont and the King had gotten wrong information. The village was perfectly safe. Richemont would later blame it on a bad agent, and I believed it for the longest time. But after the coronation, I cannot be sure."

"A bastard even back then." Though Colbert was clearly distressed, Devers stayed conversational. "And you attacked Menvil when?"

"Soon after we found out the village was occupied, he attacked me from behind, and I struck back. Menvil was always aggressive, but something at that moment made him go completely insane. I didn't check to see that he was dead, but I ran into the village-"

"Hold on." Devers interrupted him, then turned around. "Captain, are you okay?" Colbert looked up from his own feet towards the Musketeer Captain. She was breathing heavily and practically shaking. Her eyes were burning with an intensity that was indescribable, and even a little hauntingly like Menvil's

"It was you!" She snarled, and drew her sword so fast it almost cut Devers in the small room. And just like that she was moving to bring it down on Colbert's head. Devers may have been a senior agent, but he was still in prime condition. He grabbed Agnès' arm at the height of her swing, stopping her.

"Stand down, Captain!" He shouted, trying to pull her back. "What the hell are you doing?!"

"He-he destroyed my family!" she screamed, "It's his fault that I lost my home! " Colbert's eyes widened. She was a survivor? But that could only mean...

Agnès may have been a little smaller than the American, but she still had strength and she had weight thanks to her armor, and she used it to push Devers into the wall. But the man didn't let go of her arm. He yelled for help and kicked the back of Agnes' knee, making her stumble.

"Drop the goddamn sword!" He ordered, still struggling to keep her from moving the arm. A medical officer had heard the call and came in, grabbing the enraged woman's other arm. Together, they forced her to her knees. But she kept struggling, screaming in rage. MPs hurried into the room, at which point they were all finally able to force her to the floor, tear the sword from her hands, and cuff her. She screamed for several more minutes, demanding they release her. It took close to ten minutes before she settled down, and even then the MPs refused to uncuff her.

"You were there Captain?!" Devers asked as he caught his breath while the others held her down.

"Yes, I was the only one to survive that night! Everyone else died because of this bastard!" she accused, "They never stood a chance when the fire started! He's a murderer!"

Devers glanced at Colbert, the professor's jaw still hanging.

"You… you say you are the only one to survive?" he asked quietly, though there was a strange glimmer of hope in his voice.

"Yes!"

"How?" Colbert continued in the same tone.

"A man pulled me out of my home that you and your fellow murderers burned!"

Colbert sighed as he remembered what had happened.

"I know that story… because I was the one that pulled you out."

"Liar!" Agnes shouted in disbelief, "That's impossible!"

"After I struck down Menvil, I ran into the village, looking to save anyone I could but it was too late for many. I only found one- a little girl. I heard her screaming from a burning house and ran in. I pulled out you."

"I don't believe you!" Agnes shouted, then seemed to have a revelation. "The man who saved me had a burn mark on the back of his neck!" She remembered like it was a golden piece of information. "If it was really you, then prove it! Show me your back!" She demanded smugly.

Colbert rose from his bed and began to pull off the white shirt he'd been given. "When I tried to pull you out of the flames, a burning beam fell on my back."

The shirt fell off and Agnes' eyes widened as she saw the familiar scar.

"No… no… how can this be?"

She couldn't understand it. The same man who had destroyed her loved ones and her home was the man that saved her life.

"I carried that girl out of there despite my injuries and tiredness," Colbert continued, "I brought her to the Palace as proof that D'Angleterre wasn't contaminated by a plague."

"He's right," Agnes confirmed, shocked. "I don't remember much except seeing the King and Queen before I was entrusted to one of the Palace Guard Captains."

"His Majesty was appalled at the massacre." Colbert nodded, "I resigned and wanted punishment but the King pardoned me and promised that the child would be taken care of. Since then, I have sought to find peaceful means to use Fire magic and dedicated myself to peace."

"Okay." Devers took that all in, then collapsed onto a chair to think for a moment. "Take her outside, boys." He motioned to the MPs holding Agnes down. "Let her cool off and then send her back to the Capital. Make sure she leaves. Follow her down the road for a few miles."

"I'm not leaving till this bastard is dead!"

Devers groaned exasperately.

"We are not killing this man," he replied in annoyance, "He's a valued staff member at the Academy, he's been a good help to us in this world, and he's doing a lot to improve the lives of mages and commoners alike. Anyway," Devers shrugged. "The King pardoned him, so we couldn't do a damn thing even if we wanted. He regrets what he did, Captain. You'll have to learn to forgive and forget, just like we're going to forget the little stunt you just pulled."

Agnes snarled as she was carried away by the MP's. Colbert was surprised by the spy's pity and help.

"Thank you M. Devers," Colbert said. "But I don't understand. Why did you defend me?"

"I know a good man and a sorry man when I see one," Devers stated, "And like you said, the King pardoned you. We will be checking with the Archduchess to confirm your story, by the way. And obviously the Queen will be informed." Colbert bowed his head, not contesting the decision.

"Henrietta was not yet born when it happened." Colbert said. "She knows nothing of it. It'll be a shock to her."

"Still, we'll need to inform her. If for no other reason than the fact you just provoked the Captain of her guard into attacking you and nearly harming allied personnel."

"I understand." Colbert nodded. He was quiet for a moment before he asked something of Devers. "You are similar to what I was. Tell me, M. Devers: Were you every responsible for the death of innocents?"

"That is classified information, M. Colbert," the agent replied emotionlessly. "But men like you and me, we do work that needs to be done. Sometimes it's at a terrible price and sometimes it goes wrong. But what we do ultimately lets our countries survive."

Devers stood up from his chair.

"Have a nice day M. Colbert. We'll finish this discussion on Menvil another time." He gave one last word to the professor before he vanished down the hallway. "I'd keep your door locked tonight."

Colbert nodded as he sank into his jumbled thoughts. It had simply been a lot to take in. His musings were interrupted by the arrival of his friends, professors Leroy and Richer, only a little while later.

"We came over as soon as we heard that you were awake," Leroy said as he entered the room, "How are you doing?"

"Much better, thank you Benjamin," Colbert replied while his friends sat down on the chairs, "Despite everything." There was a brief moment of silence. "I owe you two an explanation." Colbert realized. "About the things Menvil said that night."

His friends' eyes widened.

"Jean? What do you mean?" Richer asked nervously before Colbert explained everything. He told them of his past life, the great tragedy he'd caused, and even what had happened only today. He held nothing back.

"That's why I've held such a fascination with your world since M. Saito told me of it." He said after he finished. "A place where war is regarded with disdain and peace and innovation to help people is applauded. It was the kind of place I wanted to help build."

His friends remained silent.

"I can understand if you do not wish to speak with a man whose hands are covered in the blood of innocents."

"Jean, you're our friend and a good man." Leroy replied, "and there is no way that we will give up on you."

"Really?"

"Yes." Richer said simply.

"Thank you so very much."

The three friends would enjoy each other's company for the next few hours discussing about various theories and experiments that they would try out once Colbert was released. Three men dedicated to innovation and improvement for Halkegenia for all people.

* * *

"Your Majesty," a noble shouted, "We cannot let this stand! Albion has gone too far!"

"How many more attacks will you tolerate?" another demanded angrily.

After the Academy attack, the news had spread quickly. Henrietta had summoned the many surviving nobles to her Palace to discuss about the situation. Unfortunately, it rapidly fell into chaos as they wanted blood. They were the parents of the children that had been taken hostage, after all.

"We must invade Albion and ensure that they will not dare do anything of this sort anymore!"

"Order!" Delage shouted trying to calm down the assembled nobles, "We will have order!" If Agnes were here, she would've kept them back at sword point. But Henrietta had ordered her to take a leave of her duties to get her affairs in order. Confined here in the palace, though. That was a recommendation from M. Devers that she thought sound. That whole business was something she was far too busy to dwell on right now.

"Why not accept Germania's proposal of invading Albion?!"

"Even they are uncouth barbarians, they may be right for once!"

Henrietta could sense her headache worsening.

"Ask the Canadian and Americans to assist us in bringing Albion to order! It's the least they can do for not letting us kill the arch-heretic!"

"Our children will be in danger as long as Albion exists!"

"They threw away the Founder's ways and now they should pay the price!"

"Minister Delage." Henrietta waved at her First Minister.

"Yes your Majesty," he replied with understanding, "This meeting is now over!" He declared as he banged a gavel.

More shouts of protest. Delage and two Musketeers held them back as Henrietta rose from her throne and calmly walked away to her bedroom.

"Thank you Minister Delage," Henrietta said as the man left her to her own devices. The Queen crashed in one of chairs, her thoughts jumbled by the current situation.

She found herself looking at the ring on her finger. One of the Rings of the Founder, Ruby rings symbolizing the four elements of Magic and given to each of the Blessed Realms: Albion's Ruby of Wind, a sign of the House of Tudor and entrusted to her by Wales before his death. What would it be like if he'd survived? She had to wonder. Would the war never happen? Would her allies have helped her restore the Tudors to power? Might her and him be married? There was so many 'What if' in her mind right now.

Yet seeing the ring also filled her with fury. Wales' death was still a painful topic for her and the kingdom's fresh wounds from the invasion didn't help the animosity she felt towards Albion. But at what exactly? Cromwell was dead. Reconquista had lost control. Were there any valid targets for her anger?

At the same time, she had the terrible reports coming from Earth's spies in Albion. Kinstrife had returned to the White Country as the power vacuum meant that chaos and anarchy ruled. Even if she couldn't lay a claim to the Blessed Throne of Air for fear of disrupting balance in Halkegenia, she still had Albion blood in her veins. It was part of her legacy. Could she really just let it destroy itself? Could she let innocents die when she had the strength to act?

All she wanted was peace and prosperity for her kingdom.

* * *

The sound of carriage coming to a halt could be heard as Saito ran out of his manor in excitement.

"Louise!"

"Saito! I'm so happy to see you!" Louise said as she jumped of the carriage and ran towards him. The two kissed before the sound of someone clearing their throat caught their attention. Saito glanced and saw Éléonore walking up to them with a displeased glare.

"G-greeting Éléonore."

"Please restrain your displays of affection," she coldly said, "I expect the both of you to behave properly while you are staying here."

"Hum, yes," Saito replied glumly as he glanced at Éléonore. She looked almost… envious?

"I hope that you have prepared us a proper welcome," the older sister said, looking down on him.

"Yes, I did my best but there's still a lot of work and the new servants haven't arrived yet," Saito replied as he led them inside, "Hey Louise, I was thinking of finding a way to get electricity to this place."

"You mean what powers your devices on Earth?" she asked.

"It'll make things easier for everyone in the house and I'll see if I can't get a power network for Des Ornières," Saito explained.

"Would that not be a difficult thing to do Viscount?" Éléonore suddenly asked, "This region is quite impoverished and backwater."

"Urgh yeah. I'm still trying to figure out the details for that," Saito admitted, "I've talked with some of the people living here."

"Have you thought about other issues surrounding your lands?" the older Vallière sibling asked, "Like production or profits?"

Saito shook his head.

"Did anyone in your world teach you how to manage land?"

The closest experience Saito had was a few city-building video games. The way things looked… it wasn't anything like his games. Not to mention, he wasn't very good at those games.

"I'm still trying to learn," he finally said, "Perhaps I might ask for help from other nobles or the Canadian and Americans."

The answer seemed to satisfy Éléonore.

"I also had a question for you two. My brother and I found this secret room with a strange mirror in it."

Both sisters looked at him with surprised looks.

"What do you mean exactly?" Éléonore asked, intrigued.

"I'll show you."

The group made their way into the basement.

"Sorry if it's still a bit dusty," Saito apologized as they walked in the basement, "I've been trying to clean everything up but it's a lot of work."

"You should hire a maid." Louise told him.

After a few moments, the group got into the secret bedroom.

"This room seems far too well preserved compared to the rest of the manor," Éléonore remarked before casting a detection spell, "Yes, whoever built this room used powerful magic to maintain it."

She looked at the mirror, noticing the strange shimmering it had and the changing reflection.

"Could you cast a spell on that mirror? See where it leads or what's so special about?" Saito asked. Éléonore shook her head.

"I wish you would have told me about this before I came. Items like these can have many enchantments cast upon them. Using a spell on this can trigger traps or magical accidents," she explained, "Had I had my tools with me, I might be able to see what this mirror can do."

The more they looked at the mirror, the more the image it showed looked strangely familiar to them.

"This mirror could either be a communication mirror or a portal." Éléonore deduced, "There should be another one linked to this that is still active though. The only issue is to find out where the other one is."

"Ah."

Louise was still fixed on the mirror. Suddenly her face lit up.

"I know where I've seen that place before!" she exclaimed suddenly.

"Little Louise?!"

"It's-it's in her Majesty's bedroom!" Louise said as she pointed the mirror, "I'd recognize it anywhere."

"Are you sure about that?" Saito asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes!" Louise said as she walked up to the mirror and touched it. It suddenly shimmered brightly, the light surrounding the little mage… before she disappeared.

"Louise!" Both shouted before Saito bolted into the mirror.

"You idiots!" Éléonore shouted as she realized what the two others just did.

Saito tripped on something before falling face first.

"Watch it you dog!" Louise shouted angrily she struggled with the fact that her boyfriend fell on her back.

"Are you ok?" Saito asked as he picked himself up.

"Yes, thank you!" Louise replied dryly, "You didn't need to rush in like that!"

"I was worried ok?"

"Hmmph!"

"So where exactly are we?" Saito asked as he looked around him, trying to get his bearing. He noticed the racks of clothing, some of it familiar and pearly white walls.

"We-we're inside her Majesty's closet!" Louise exclaimed as she realized where they were.

"What?!" Saito shouted.

"I used to play here with her when we were children!" Louise said before hearing footsteps on the other side.

"Uhoh."

"Wait, your Majesty! It's me Louise!" she suddenly cried desperately as she ran for the door. As she opened it, Henrietta was already waiting for her with a very surprised look on her face.

"Louise-Françoise?! Why are you here?!"

"Your Majesty! My apologies!" Louise as she took a knee, "I came from Des Ornières. There was a mirror that led here!"

Henrietta's eyes suddenly narrowed.

"I did not mean to."

"You are forgiven Louise-Françoise," Henrietta said warmly before walking past her to see the mirror for herself, "So it was true then."

"Is that the Queen?!" Saito called from deeper in the closet.

"Yes and you'd better apologize too!" Louise shouted back.

"You are already forgiven M. Saito." Henrietta assured as she stopped in front of the mirror.

"What do you mean your Majesty?" Louise asked a bit more calmly.

"Well, as you may have known these quarters used to belong to my grandfather, King Phillip," Henrietta explained with Louise nodding, "When he was younger, he was rumored to have a mistress that was one of the members of the House of Des Ornières … and liked to see each other quite regularly."

Louise could guess the rest of the story.

"This mirror was probably how they met with each other without being caught," Henrietta connected the dots. "Whenever I saw this mirror, I avoided it. Something about it made me uneasy."

"I-I see," Saito blurted out while Louise's face lit up with an idea. "So, uh...what should we do with it?"

"Your Majesty! This mirror could be used for you to escape if something happens?" Louise suggested, "Or perhaps allow to escape the court for a few hours and be with friends?"

Henrietta smiled.

"That would be a wonderful idea my dear Louise-Françoise."

Saito suddenly blanched.

"Louise, I think your sister's going to be pissed though." He glanced into the mirror. "She's gotta be freaking out that we disappeared."

"Hmm." Henrietta thought, then went to step through the mirror.

On the other side, Éléonore was pacing around the room angrily. Her mother had warned her to keep an eye on Louise, and now look what the reckless child had done! Footsteps other than her own tapped on the stone floor and she angrily wheeled to face the mirror, only to stop short.

"Your Majesty!" she exclaimed as she saw her queen emerge from the mirror. Éléonore quickly bowed.

"You may rise." Henrietta waved. Saito and Louise came out of the mirror behind her.

"I must apologize for my sister and her familiar's reckless indiscretion."

Henrietta smiled and nodded.

"There is no need for apologies. If anything, Lady Vallière, your sister and M. Hiraga have rendered me a great service by discovering this mirror."

"Excuse me your Majesty?"

"I may now be able to come here and escape the burdens of the court," Henrietta explained with a smile.

"I hope that the burdens of the court are not too terrible for you, your Majesty," Éléonore said respectfully.

"They are nothing I cannot handle," Henrietta answered honestly, "Though I do appreciate the sudden break that Louise-Françoise and M. Hiraga have been able to grant me."

Éléonore and Louise both looked relieved.

"What were you working on your Majesty?" Saito suddenly piped up.

"You can't just ask her Majesty a question like that!" Louise exclaimed, still annoyed at her boyfriend's usual lack of tact while Éléonore glared at him.

"I was finishing a meeting with General du Poitier and several noble families concerning the invasion of Albion," Henrietta replied simply.

"Does this mean that you are accepting Germania's proposal?" Louise asked, trying to hide her disdain of the Germanians, "Are you certain of this?" Henrietta sighed.

"With all things considered, I think such an undertaking is necessary to Tristain's future." Henrietta admitted, and she'd considered a lot of things: proving to her allies how independent she was, her obligations to the Albion people and her own, and this whole undertaking as a sort of gift to the papacy. She definitely needed the last part right now. "It's not an easy choice to make, but more Tristain's future, I will make such a difficult decision."

"The Valliere family will follow the crown." Éléonore stated immediately. True, her father had opposed it. But if it was what the Queen decided, the Valliere family had stood beside the crown through decisions good and bad.

"You can count on my support your Majesty," Louise added.

"Thank you, Louise. I will not try and take advantage of you, but it'll be a gift to have you beside me on the front lines."

"Wait, is America and Canada helping us?" Saito asked. Henrietta shook her head.

"They have chosen not to. But I have faith Tristain and Germania's strengths together will be more than enough." Something about that answer rubbed Saito in the wrong way. The earlier battles he fought were ones where his life and his friends' were on the line. He also knew that Earth would save him from danger.

But now? Invading another country? Something about events the last few weeks had made him a little weary. Hindsight told him that maybe he'd been a little too eager to try and join the defense of Tristania, eagerness that might've done more harm than good. His sessions with the Valliere's told him he wasn't a soldier and that his strength lay best in protecting Louise. If Louise went to Albion with the Queen, obviously he'd follow her; he was convinced she was in mortal danger from the church. But that would put him out of contact with Earth again. With his parents and brother.

Saito had a bad feeling about this, and for the first time in a long time he felt a certain detachment as he looked at his girlfriend and the Queen, both people he'd been close to his entire time here.

* * *

The Duke and Duchess had started looking into their options while they were in Tristania. They had talked with the Queen who directed them to the American Ambassador. Their status as a family close to the crown and being Louise's family were not factors that Fitzgerald ignored when he helped them. Getting on their good side was a priority. After a series of phone calls and appointments, the ambassador had arranged for a doctor to come to the Vallière estate with a guard.

The 'doctor' was in fact a captain from the US Army Medical Department, one of the many soldiers and diplomatic informants reporting to the intelligence services. But they didn't know that. And really, they didn't need to. What they were doing was still a service to their daughter.

"Does this illness interfere with her magic at all?" Was her first question. Their options would obviously be limited if it was a magical disease.

"We ensured she got the best at home education available. She is a very capable Earth Mage. When she was 15, she summoned an Earth golem taller than this manor." Duke Valliere stated proudly.

"It does get hard to cast spells for a long time though." Cattelya spoke up. "It gets hard to focus." The doctor wrote that down.

"And you've sought treatment for her before?" The doctor went on. "Can you describe its nature?"

"We've hired water mages from all the Blessed Realms...and even Germania." Duchess Vallière admitted disdainfully after a beat. "None have been able to heal her for long; the disease simply moves to another part of her body."

"I understand water magic…" the doctor checked her notes, "it accelerates natural healing processes? Or manipulating the flow of water within a person?" That was a textbook quote. Given a water mages ability to stop bleeding, they assumed that referred to blood.

"That's correct." The doctor looked deep in thought for several moments before flipping back in her notes to the list of symptoms given before she got here. Fatigue, coughing, head pains, and she jotted down mental impairment with a question mark after it. The last point was only on the assumption mages needed their brains to cast magic. Moving blood to one part of the body caused the other to get weaker… The doctor was starting to get an idea. One last factor to consider though.

"All these animals she spends time around, did she have them before she got sick?"

"No. They were gifts after they realized I couldn't leave the house." Cattelya explained.

"She's been sick since a very young age." Her parents confirmed, "Shortly after her birth in fact."

That lowered the possibility of parasites and gave more credence to the idea the doctor was beginning to have. She pulled a stethoscope from her bag of items.

"Sir, I'm just going to make a few examinations on your daughter. It may be appropriate for you to leave the room." She explained to the Duke.

"Excuse me?" He was stunned by her request.

"The test I am about to do requires privacy but the Duchess may remain."

The Duke looked briefly at his wife who nodded.

"I shall await in the hallway," he replied before he walked out. The doctor then turned to Duchess Vallière.

"I am about to do a very common examination in order to confirm my suspicions," she explained as she showed her stethoscope, "This stethoscope will enable to listen to your heart, Lady La Fontaine. I must ask you to remove the upper part of your dress first however since it will interfere with it."

"I will allow it," Cattleya said as she began undressing.

After a few moments, the doctor was moving her stethoscope around, her face in concentration while occasionally asking Cattleya to take deep breaths.

"You may redress and the Duke may come back."

The duchess opened the door before her husband entered the room and took a seat.

"I have an idea what might be causing your daughter's poor health, but I still have a few questions."

"Yes?" the Duchess said.

"Is there any other member of the family that suffers or suffered from a similar illness?"

Both parents looked at each other, trying to remember if anyone else in their respective Houses were afflicted in a similar fashion.

"Why do you ask?" the duke asked, not liking the fact that the doctor was prying into private family affairs.

"Certain illnesses can be transferred from one generation to another but occasionally skip generations as well."

The duke closed his eyes as she remembered a story.

"I did remember hearing as a child that one of my grandmothers was plagued with poor health throughout her life," he soberly recounted, "She died quite young, barely a few years after my mother's birth."

The doctor scribbled down more notes. The signs all pointed to the same thing.

"One last question." The doctor turned to Duchess Valliere. "Say a person is born without a hand. Would water magic be able to grow them a new one?" The Duchess shook her head.

"Water Magic restores the body. It cannot create a new one. Even the most extreme applications of it can't accomplish feats like that."

"So Water Magic can't heal a condition someone is born with." The doctor was nodding.

"Do you know what's wrong with her?" Cattleya's mother demanded. The young woman in question was petting a cat she'd pulled into her lap. She was used to tuning out conversations like this; they usually went the same way.

"We can't be sure without more intensive tests, but I have a theory."

"Tell us." The Duchess insisted.

"Are you fully aware of what the heart does?" The three nobles nodded their heads

"Yes, it creates blood," the duke replied, "And heats the body in order to prevent death."

"I'm afraid that's quite wrong. We've made considerable research for the past 400 years in understanding how it works," the doctor corrected politely, "It controls the flow of blood throughout the body. Blood flow to the limbs and brain to make them function. But some people are born with weak hearts that can't pump blood efficiently."

Despite just being blatantly told they were wrong, none of the nobles interrupted and let the explanation continue.

"If it doesn't pump enough blood to the limbs, it can cause fatigue. If it can't pump enough blood to the upper body, it becomes difficult to breath or think." And if they moved blood to one part of body like water magic supposedly did, it made sense another part would weaken when the blood couldn't return in a timely manner.

"So our daughter may be suffering from this affliction?" the duke asked, mulling over the explanation.

"I believe so but it will require more extensive testing."

"You were able to find that out with your device?" Cattleya asked slightly awed.

"That is my preliminary diagnostic Lady La Fontaine. It's likely, but at the moment I cannot be absolutely certain."

"Is there a cure for this?" Lady Vallière asked, "Does your world have the means to strengthen her heart?"

"We have many options available to us," the doctor replied, "The most common would be regular doses of medicine to alleviate the symptoms."

"How common are people with weak hearts in your world?" Cattleya said, "Is it an easily treated ailment?"

"It is a very common issue but the treatment depends on its nature."

"What are the other options?" The duke did not like the idea of his daughter being eternally dependant on medecine from another world.

"Installing a special device inside her body that will help her heart. In the worst case, we must replace the heart by a healthier one."

The three's eyes widened as they heard the answer.

"But before we start discussing of treatments, we need more extensive testing to confirm the exact nature of her issues," the doctor stated, "Would it possible for you to travel to the portal? Our forces have set up a full hospital there with the necessary equipment."

"We shall travel to your hospital as soon as it is possible," the duchess declared.

"I will make arrangements right away then."

* * *

It had been a few days since the meeting with the nobles ended. Since then, Henrietta was buried in mountains of work preparing for a invasion despite the Royal Army still being rebuilt. This would be an endeavor for the Royal Army and the Orders specifically; she'd trust control at home to the noble armies. What annoyed her the most at first was how her people expected her to go to war without the means. War was an expensive business. Weapon and food costs went up, as did wages and other costs. A great amount of equipment had to be procured. And they expected her to do it all immediately. It would take three months at the least when they wanted it done yesterday.

Her Earth allies were still holding back, so she looked elsewhere. For all the goods Earth sold, swords, shields, and the like weren't among them. So with the envoy bearing her letter of agreement with Emperor Albert III, a party of negotiators had arrived to try and get Tristain a bulk shipment of weapons for a reasonable price.

At least her people had started construction on two new airships. It was a start to rebuilding their Navy. Their allies were still training the sailors without ships at the joint base, so they weren't totally useless.

To help pay for all of this, she'd started talking to more merchants from American, Canada, and even the United Kingdom. Unlike their governments, they were much more eager to provide things. Not that they had much that she needed right now though.

What they did have was money, something that Henrietta definitely needed, so she decided to sit down and discuss with several groups of executives looking to make deals over the next few days. One of them were representatives of a mining business. They'd been here in Tristain before, but every noble and Henrietta had turned them down.

In a direct contrast to how business had been done at the time, they wanted to come in and extract resources themselves and giving 30% of the profits to the nobles or government. That had been unacceptable at the time, so it wasn't accepted. Now though? Henrietta supposed she couldn't be picky.

They'd already paid her handsomely just for the ability to survey the Crown's land, money that would go a long way towards alleviating her problems. They'd even bought the rights to examine old dried up mines. They'd insisted to her that mining techniques on Earth were advanced, and that they'd be able to find wealth deeper into the ground then Tristainian miners could ever go.

Maybe she'd get lucky and they'd find a massive amount of gold that would get her out of this situation for good.

Of course, she prepared to negotiate with them with her best negotiators as well.

There was a knock at her office door.

"Enter."

"Your Majesty," a musketeer said as she took a knee, "The envoy from Germania has arrived."

"Please send tell him to meet in the throne room," Henrietta ordered.

Moments later, they were gathered inside the throne room.

"Your Majesty, the Emperor would like to convey his utmost joy at your wise decision to join Germania on this venture." the envoy said as he bowed, "He wishes to meet with you and your generals to discuss further terms."

"Very well. I believe that I can arrange for him to stay at the Palace," Henrietta replied, "It is afterall from our ports and lands that the invasion is being launched and commanded. It is better that he comes here with his generals and gain some familiarity with the land."

The envoy hid his surprise well.

"It would also be an opportunity for the Emperor to meet with Earth. They are interested in supporting us in this venture as well." Henrietta bluffed, "There are many people on their side that have been outraged at Albion's actions."

The envoy was struck. The Emperor wanted Henrietta to come to Vindabona. And if they were to discuss with the outworders, surely it could be at their embassies in Vindabona? She was making demands of them, demands they couldn't simply dismiss. Flaunting her power.

"I see," he replied, "I shall convey this invitation to the Emperor."

"I hope that he sees the wisdom of it," Henrietta said, "and that I receive his reply soon." The envoy nodded and left, leaving the Queen of Tristain smiling slyly to herself. But she couldn't enjoy it for long, she had to get back to work. She needed officers to staff her new army, which meant letters to the noble families to ask for aid.

* * *

Trump and Trudeau had probably discussed more with each other than any other heads of state, even for neighboring countries. But given the situation both their countries were involved in, it couldn't be a surprise.

"Henrietta has decided to invade Albion with Emperor Albert," Trudeau said as he spoke with Trump over the conference call. "Unfortunately." He made it clear what he thought of the matter.

"Ambassador Fitzgerald already notified me earlier. I've already discussed with Jim and we're thinking about helping them in some way. It should be a joint-effort for both of us."

"I don't agree with that." Trudeau said. "And I should remind you that the US Military can operate in Halkegenia because Canada allows the resources they need to operate to pass through our lands." Trump shrugged and threw his hands up.

"Why would you?" He asked. "You want peace and prosperity over there and it's how we can get a foot on the ladder, make sure they don't overdo this invasion and make us look bad. Besides, you've heard that Menvil terrorist was a paid mercenary. Someone in Albion is paying people to screw with us and we should want their head." Colbert, and some other hostages, had mentioned what Menvil said and the intelligence agencies assumed as much by the fact several of the dead terrorists weren't Albion like the others. It had been a mercenary attack, a testament to both how weak the Reconquista was but also how determined they were.

"As I recall, the report said no one knows who paid for the mercenaries." Trudeau reminded him.

"Yes and that's why the CIA and, I hope, CSIS are working on finding out. But we got to be ready. We got plenty of time." The Queen had mentioned that it'd be somewhere along the tune of three months until she was ready. That meant late April or even early May, plenty of time to get stuff done on Earth.

"And what exactly do you suggest?" Trudeau asked.

"They won't have that many people for this invasion. We're still watching their borders for them." That was true. A battalion from the 1st Cavalry was still in Tristain watching the Gallian border, and Canadian troops were policing Tarbes and other parts along the coast. "When this invasion happens, they'll have to rely on us even more. We can use that as a bargaining chip."

"To demand what, exactly?" Trudeau asked, "To let us join? The Canadian people aren't interested in invading another country."

Elections were coming up at the end of 2019, and this invasion could very well last into that. If something was going wrong, Trudeau's party could very easily pay a price. Not to mention that the press had gotten its hands on a scandal that threatened to shake his popularity. Things in Halkegenia needed to go as well as possible.

"No, to make them do this the way we want them to do it." Trump said simply, "Get some people on the ground and make sure they don't mess everything up."

"And how do you plan on doing that? Have our special forces keep an eye on them? Have people hold their hands and make sure everything is done right?"

"Look, there's a lot of economic opportunities for us if we can make Albion our friend. We need to make sure the people there like us. Show them we aren't the bad guys that son of bitch Cromwell told them we were. It's like Iran." Trump offered as an example. Hate the leader, not the citizens.

"All the while making sure Germania doesn't get in our way. Which is difficult since their army is in much better shape then Tristain's."

"Hopefully they bleed out and give up." Trump said without a hint of remorse. "If they get a bigger share of Albion, I don't think we'll get much out of it. The Tristainians will want to do more business with us. I still think Henrietta should stake a claim to the throne and take the whole damn thing. She said she has the right."

"But that'll just make the other countries angry and we could very well see another war. Our best option is to make sure that Tristain gains the upper hand instead of Germania. Which means that we have to help them," Trudeau sighed. He did not like this option at all.

"Would you prefer us supporting them or that Pope backing them?" Trump asked. "Because that pretty boy is going to use this invasion to set up shop there again. Both our people are sure about that."

"Yes," Trudeau replied bitterly, "If the Pope before him could order an entire village burnt down simply because they didn't believe the same thing he did, I wouldn't be surprised if Pope Vittorio is the same. It would let us protect the people there if we were involved."

"Exactly." Trump nodded. "Look, I didn't want to do this either. But it's happening and we can't let it just happen without us. We're going to do our damnedest to make sure we get something out of it."

"Yes. I think we should have a proper conference with our defense leaders. And if we absolutely have to do this, we should bring in the UN. " Trudeau expected an objection, so he spoke up. "Look, the more allies we get backing us, the better we look doing this and the less we actually have to do. I think this justifies a peacekeeping mission. And after all the supplies the international community sent to Tristain, Henrietta is going to be inclined to listen to them."

"Fair enough," Trump grumbled, "I'll contact you once Mattis confirms when he can meet us. Good day, M. Trudeau."

"Same to you." The two leaders disconnected.

* * *

The advanced team of diplomatic personnel to Romalia stood waiting in one of the capital's docks alongside Julio and his dragon. The team, a six man group, had over a dozen bags with them caring a large assortment of luggage, including things the Romalians didn't know about.

Julio was going with them, intent on being their guide. He wanted to get back to Romalia and deliver his report personally to the Pope for a change. Given the stir he'd caused, it was probably for the best he left Tristain for a while.

Before he'd left, he'd had one last conversation with Henrietta to assure her there was no hard feelings over hiding Louise, insisting he understand her protecting one of her young subjects who was clearly not ready for that kind of responsibility. In reality, given that her familiar was from Earth and apparently under Earth's protection, Julio thought it might better for the Pope to handle this matter. There was no need for negative feelings with Tristain when they were about to help re-establish the Church in Albion.

A Romalian airship had come to Tristania to pick them up. It was a majestic ship, painted in white with ornate decorations befitting the splendour and riches of the Papacy. The party boarded.

"Impressive is it not Consul Mortimer, Consul Thompson.?" Julio asked the leaders of the advance team in Romalian, "The Aquila is the finest ship in the Romalian Navy."

"I think she is bit a gaudy for my tastes," the American consul explained, "I've always preferred simpler ships when I sailed back home. However, I can appreciate the work and superb craftsmanship that has been put into her."

"I must admit that she is an impressive ship, though I can't really say I'm an expert," Thompson added, "I've never been much inclined to sailing."

The two men walked onto the ship, followed by the Consuls' four bodyguards. Officially that is. All of them were either American or Canadian intel operatives, 3 fluent in Italian and the last an experienced former soldier. All the security, diplomatic, and spying needs of American and Canada were in this small team.

"Do you have any experience sailing?" Julio asked Mortimer.

"I own a small boat back in the US and I grew up near the sea. I never thought I'd see a flying ship like the Aquila though," he explained as he looked over the regal ship's rigging. The graying man had seen his fair share of ships around New England, "I would like to see all of it, if that's possible."

"There is no problem," Julio replied, "I shall be your guide. Will you be joining us Consul Thompson?"

"If it doesn't cause you any trouble, I would be very pleased," the Canadian replied, "Would it be possible for us to take some pictures? To show our families this amazing vessel when we go back home?"

"I will allow it," Julio answered before signalling to the captain to leave port, "Romalia's greatest naval architects will be quite happy to see that their work is appreciated."

"Wonderful, thank you very much."

The _Aquila_ flew gracefully out of Tristainia as her passengers enjoyed the sight she offered. Within a few hours, back in Tristain, Devers and Harper were poring over the pictures they had received before the ship left transmission range. There was equipment for a more long range signal in the team's bags, so it was just a few of the hundreds they were hoping for over the next few days.

* * *

The familiar ringtone made Saito impatient with each second. He was at the American Embassy to call his parents in Tokyo. He wanted to tell them about his new title and responsibilities. His brother wasn't with him today since he was busy with his research team. The ringtone stopped.

"Hello, who is this?" a familiar voice asked.

"Hey Mom, it's Saito. How are you doing?" he greeted warmly.

"I'm fine dear."

"Is dad there?"

"Give me a few seconds."

There was a brief pause where Saito heard his mother call for his father and setting the phone on conference mode.

"Hey son. How are you doing? I hope you've been keeping out of trouble," his father said.

"Don't worry ok? I've been staying out of trouble. Both me and Louise."

"No more gun battles?"

"No more gun battles." Saito confirmed. "Actually, I got some good news: the Queen was handing out rewards today for people who helped during the invasion."

"Rewards? What exactly did you get?" his mother asked skeptically.

"Did you get a medal or money?" his father added.

"Even better. I got a house!" Saito couldn't contain the excitement from his voice.

"A… house?" his mother's voice sounded crestfallen.

"Yeah and some land too."

"Land? Like your own farm?" Ichika Hiraga couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Better. I got a title and a domain!" Saito grinned to himself.

"You have your own subjects?!" his mother practically shrieked.

"You're a _politician_ now?" He could almost hear his father's raised eyebrow. "What happened to being a cop?"

"Yeah! Well, not really. I'm a viscount now. It means a lot of things. Still learning a lot of the ropes about this stuff."

"But-but… you're barely an adult! You-you couldn't even take care of yourself before! How are you going to rule over people?!" his mother wasn't too pleased at the turn of events.

"What's the matter mom? Aren't you happy for me?" Saito was stunned at his mother's reaction. He thought they'd be happy. He had an honest living now.

It made him worry how they might react when he mentioned he wanted to marry Louise.

"Think about it for a second. You are 18 years old and you only have a high school education. You don't know the first thing about management. You're going to starve to death!"

"Calm down mom. I can get some help ok?"

"Do you really think people are going to hold your hand forever Saito?" his father pointed out, "Running a piece of territory isn't easy at all."

"It'll be alright ok? Guys, have some faith in me."

There was a heavy sigh on the other side.

"Why won't you just come home Saito?" his mother asked sadly, "This isn't the life you should be leading. I'm sure you could get a job here that's easier. I think there's actually some companies that want to trade over there. You could be a well-dressed businessman!"

"I told you guys, I like it here. I got friends here. Louise is here, and since I have a title and everything now…I uhh...I was thinking about settling down." He admitted in a little embarrassment. He wondered if this was still about him disappearing as a teenager. Maybe that's why they still treated him like one.

"Settling down? As in _marrying_ that girl?" his dad asked incredulously. There was another moment of silence.

"Yeah." Saito admitted. "I like Louise. Besides," He didn't really know if he could convey what Void was and all that was. It might even be a state secret, so he didn't tell them. "Something happened so I can't really leave her alone right now."

He heard a sharp intake of breath.

"DID YOU GET THAT GIRL PREGNANT?!" Nasu screamed into the phone.

"What? No!" Saito said frantically. "It's...uh...something to do with magic. That's all I can say or I'll get in trouble!" He could hear and irritated groan on the other end.

"Magic this, magic that," his mother sighed in exasperation, "First you get into a gunfight. Then a war, and now this. Saito, you're our son and we're glad you finally found something to do in your life. But are you _really_ sure this is the path you want to take? You're still young and it's not too late to change. There's nothing worse than being stuck your whole life with a job you hate."

"We don't want you being forced into this. Those people over there aren't using you, are they?" His father asked, and Saito actually had to stop and think about it. He hadn't asked for the title or the land. Hell, he hadn't asked for anything his whole time here. It just piled on him and he realized he kind of liked it.

"No dad, I don't think so. I just did my best and got lucky, I guess and got everything without asking for it."

A idea came into Saito's mind.

"Would you like to visit?" he asked innocently, "I'm sure you're going to like it here."

He hoped that if they came to visit, they'd see how happy and successful he was and finally stop worrying.

"How?" his mother was taken off balance by his invitation, "There's no way we can come to you easily. We have jobs, Saito!"

"We can't just book a flight to meet you either," his father added, "I'm sure there's no way for us to visit you without having to go through security checks and secrets agents or something like that."

"People from Earth come here all the time though." Saito told them.

"Probably because they have the right connections," his mother pointed out, "And we can't just take a sudden vacation like that without explaining anything to our bosses."

"I know people that might be able to help us. Besides, you can always say that you wanted to visit Hayate."

There was no harm in asking the American or Canadian embassies to help him meetup with his family. Saito heard his parents talking each other quickly.

"Listen son," his father finally said, "We'll see what we can do to come and visit you ok?"

"And I'll do what I can to make it happen. I'll catch you guys later ok?"

"Bye son and we'll hopefully see each other soon."

As he hung up and left the room, Saito couldn't help but wonder if he was doing the right thing. He was more successful than he ever would have been back in Japan… so why did his parents seem so… hesitant?

Saito had one last thing he needed to do before he went to see that spy guy. He had to fill out paperwork. A boring but necessary evil. They had development offices there at the embassy for people hoping to improve their lands. They didn't look all that surprised to see someone as young as Saito in there. They gave him a bunch of papers and helped him fill some of them out. Even then, Saito had trouble doing all of it.

His parents had a point: this stuff _was_ hard. But after an hour of scribbling, enough to make his right hand cramp up and hurt, and answering questions for other people to write down, he was done. They promised him people would be coming out to survey the land and suggest improvements in a weeks time. Already a little let down by the phone call, the paperwork left him completely drained.

And his day wasn't even over yet.

* * *

The sound of helicopter blades slowing down could be heard as Saito got off the Blackhawk helicopter. The smell of the sea hung in the air as he looked around Clément-sur-Mer. There seemed to be new construction at the base, and Saito wondered what awesome thing they were building now was.

"Good day to you M. Hiraga," Devers said as he walked onto the landing pad, "I'm happy you took my invitation."

"Good morning sir, I couldn't say no to it," Saito replied, "Running Des Ornières is more than I expected."

"I see. Come with me and we'll talk inside about this." He led Saito to a jeep parked away from the helipad.

Devers drove Saito through the base. Soldiers were milling with their usual duties but something caught Saito's attention.

"Why are there children here M. Devers?" he asked suddenly. There were a bunch of them playing in one of the grassy squares of land where nothing had been built on.

"It's a frankly long story M. Hiraga. We rescued them during a mission in Albion after the war ended. I'll spare you the details though." Devers casually brushed off as they stopped and entered a building. Saito found it odd that they were heading into the basement; he'd always expected Devers to have his office in the upper floors. A thought suddenly crossed his mind. It was confirmed when he entered an interrogation room.

"Please take a seat M. Hiraga," Devers ordered calmly, sitting down "I have a few questions for you."

Saito's heart began to race, and he half considered turning and bolting. But where would be go? He took a seat in the chair opposite the other man.

"I must admit that getting a noble title at your age and with your situation is amazing. Which is why I wanted to have a word with you today."

"What do you want exactly?" Saito asked nervously.

"I just wanted to make sure we're on the same side you and me."

"I don't understand what you mean."

"How old are you again? 18? 19? Maybe an adult, but still pretty young. And what exactly is it that you want, M. Hiraga?" Devers leaned forward. "For yourself? For your new holding? For everyone here in Tristain, since clearly you and the Queen think you're some kind of big player in everything." The rapid fire questions weren't making Saito any more confident.

"I...guess I just want everyone to be happy. I don't want anyone else dying. I...want to marry Louise." He admitted in embarrassment.

"You know, kid. Just because we're in a fantasy world, doesn't mean every single fantasy you have is going to come true."

Saito didn't know how to answer that as the agent continued talking.

"I'm not sure if you ever noticed this, but we've left you mostly alone this past year. You were really inconsequential and here on your own will. Your own country hasn't been too concerned since you kept your head down and don't really act as a representative of their country. Mostly. There's some wild conspiracy theories back on Earth about the Asian kid in the coronation broadcast right now." Saito wondered what the Internet was saying about him, but Devers' had plowed ahead. "But why is that? What keeps you here? Why don't you act like you're a citizen of Earth?" Eerily, the spy's questions echoed the conversation Saito had just had with his parents only an hour ago.

"I like it here." Saito explained. "I...I didn't really have anything back in Japan. I was… just another average guy that went to school and played video games. But here I got friends. I have a job. I have a girlfriend. I'm doing more than just existing, you know?"

"Thing is, kid, to us it looks like your going full native. And if that's that case, you're going to be treated like it."

"I'm still Japanese!" Saito protested.

"You're a government official for a foreign country. Your new title makes you as much. You've had a chance to go back to Japan for over a year and haven't taken it. I think some people high up over there are talking about your citizenship. And unless I misheard you, you intend to marry a foreign national?" Saito was silent. "Let me ask you a question, M. Hiraga. One that will shape the rest of your future: If you had to choose tomorrow between Earth and Halkegenia to live in for the rest of your life, which would it be?"

Saito was quiet for the longest time. He didn't actually have to make a choice like that, did he? The two worlds were connected, so he didn't have to, right? Devers must've guessed what Saito was thinking, because he spoke again and made it clear that it could be a choice.

"There's no guarantee things are going to be chummy here forever. Not everyone is happy with us in this country, or even the other countries. We don't understand that portal even now. It could close tomorrow. Nothing is impossible. Things can go to shit quickly and if it does, both worlds can easily be cut off again."

Saito scratched his head. He loved Louise. He really did. But he remembered that crushing sense of loneliness from his first few days here in this world. He remembered the absolute joy he'd felt when he'd gotten to see his parents and brother again. How excited he always was to get letters from them or how eager he was to tell them about his life here. He couldn't imagine not having any of that again, especially since he'd just talked to his parents only an hour ago.

Was there anything here here in Halkegenia he couldn't live without? Louise, obviously. He'd miss a lot of the other friends he'd made, but they didn't strike him as something that wouldn't make life worth living. And if something did happen, he could always take Louise to Japan and live with him. It'd take her time to adjust, but he was sure she could do it.

"I guess Earth…" Saito wished he could have said that with more conviction, but something seemed to be pulling him back. A little doubt in the back of his mind. _You'll miss this world_.

"Smart decision." The agent seemed to unwind a little. Had he expected that answer from the teen? Saito swore the man knew everything.

"I want to ask something now." Saito demanded, trying to muster as much force as he could. He didn't think he intimidated the agent, but the man motioned for him to go on. "Why are you helping Louise and me? You were at the awards ceremony, and now you want to help me with my new land."

"I'm happy you're getting a little wiser, M. Hiraga," Devers smirked, "Me, you, Canada, and the Queen don't want your girlfriend ending up in the hands of the Church. She's a person of interest for us and my boss in D.C. doesn't trust Romalia or their pope. As much as we'd wish otherwise, you two seem to be so crucial to things here we have no choice but to work with you."

Saito listened intently as the agent explained while trying not to take offense. It was like listening to his parents again; being talked too like he was a dumb teenager. He wasn't a soldier or a businessman or anything, but he wasn't completely stupid either.

"We suspect that Void Magic has something to do with the portal. It's a little too coincidental that it appeared next to the Academy where a Void mage just happened to study. Maybe there's a connection. Maybe there isn't." He shrugged. "But we want to look into this. Besides, I'm sure you don't want to end up dragged into a crusade to kill a bunch of elves, do you kid?"

"N-no."

"Good. Cause that's exactly what'll happen if the Church gets to both of you, and we don't want a genocide happening on Earth's doorstep." Devers stated with utmost certainty. "That's what Void Mages are for." Saito's eyes widened.

"How do you know that?"

"Because we've been reading history books since we got here. We knew what Void was long before we learned what your girlfriend was. It's pretty common knowledge to all the nobles. Seriously, kid, have you paid attention to _ANYTHING_ in this world since you arrived?"

The agent sighed as he wondered what kind of greater entity chose this very average teen in particular to be a legendary hero.

"I did my best… I heard that Cromwell wanted that… but the Pope too? I thought they just wanted Louise as a trophy?"

Devers nodded.

"The Church is built on worshipping Brimir, a man who used Void magic to win battles and was killed by elves. Obviously they'll want to avenge the person they worship and follow his example on Void Magic. Cromwell's only different because he had more initiative. Now imagine getting someone as powerful as Lady Vallière showing up. That's a weapon that can win wars. At least here. What do you do with war-winning weapons when you're genocidal, M. Hiraga?"

Saito looked down at the table, knowing the bitter answer.

"You send them to war," he answered grimly.

"You don't want that though, do you?"

"No sir." Saito didn't really care about the whole human-elf conflict, and his mood had been spoiled on all this war business.

"Then you and I can work together to make sure it doesn't happen to Lady Vallière or you."

"Yes sir." Saito agreed willingly and humbly.

"Now, let's get to business."

"Right. So where do we start M. Devers?" Saito asked more seriously. "Do you want me to be a spy for America and Canada?"

"You're not spy material kid." Devers shook his head. "You're not a soldier either, runes or not. But what you can do is let us work with you. Let us protect you. And when the Church starts getting chummy with you two-because they will-don't be afraid to let us know what they're telling you."

"Louise and me can do that." Saito nodded.

"Not your girlfriend. Just you." The agent clarified, stopping Saito short.

"But we can trust her," the teen argued weakly.

"Really? Are you sure she won't choose her faith or her Queen over you?" Devers asked sternly, "From what we know, she's a childhood friend of her Majesty and a very devout person."

Saito was stumped. He wanted to believe that Louise would follow him. Yet, he remembered how quickly she voiced her support for the invasion of Albion and how enthusiastic she was.

"Unless if her actions prove otherwise, we won't trust her to help us in any way."

Saito hated the fact but Devers was right. Would he be bad for hiding that from Louise? Surely not, since they would be helping to protect her. Doing this would be helping her.

"I take it that you're silently agreeing with me."

"Yes. Now I want to know how can you help me with my lands? Protection is good but I want to help the people there." Saito was earnest.

"Protection is all we really deal in, and it's something you really need. We can help you secure your new home, maybe give it a modern security system and keep you and your girlfriend safe alright?"

"You mean like an alarm system and cameras?" Saito replied. "It actually came with something like that. There's this secret room with a magic mirror in the basement. It leads right to Queen Henrietta's bedroom. Like a portal." For the first time in the conversation, Saito had taken aback the other man.

"Interesting…" Devers wrote that down, "How did you find out about this?"

"My brother and I were looking around and we found a secret room. The Queen thinks her grandfather used it for his mistress. I can get to the Capital in just a minute."

"Or someone could get to you in a hurry." The agent was nodding. "You and the Queen will have to show us this mirror."

"Oh but it's very safe. Only the Queen knows about it and it's in her bedroom. I doubt someone could in there easy sir."

"You'd be surprised at what a determined person can do, M. Hiraga." Devers replied with a knowing tone, "We must see that mirror understood?"

"Yes sir. I got something that I wanted to ask you."

"Go ahead."

"Are you sure you can't help me run the place? Send me some people to help me build the place up?" Saito asked.

Devers sighed.

"Look kid, we only deal in certain businesses. You want help in running a place, ask someone else in International Development at the Embassy if you didn't already do so. And to be honest, a lot of things we do deal in, we wouldn't offer to you. I can still give you one good piece of advice though that I want you to follow."

"Huh?" Saito asked.

"Don't get into the business of raising your own army like the other nobles here. It'll save you a lot of trouble"

"Why? I never really thought of that." Saito was slightly puzzled, the idea never came to his mind. Most of the people in the land were old now.

"Remember what I said about the Pope, Romalia and the Elves?"

Saito nodded.

"Suppose you have a private army. Think you wouldn't be pressured into invading Elven territory if that Pope calls for a crusade?"

"Oh, I get what you mean M. Devers."

"Good, I'm happy you're catching on. Do you have any other questions that I can answer while I'm here?"

"Think you can help my parents can come and visit my lands? I know there's a lot of paperwork and stuff involved. You guys handle that, don't you?" Did Devers smirk just then? Saito couldn't be sure.

"To an extent." He nodded. "Of course kid, we'll give you a hand with that. Even with all this here, you must still miss Earth a lot."

"Yeah," he admitted, "I still want to see my parents again."

"I'll see what we can do kid," Devers replied, "Do you still have any questions for me?"

"No M. Devers."

"Would you like to return to the Embassy for the necessary paperwork for your lands?" the agent smirked, "Or would you like a flight back to Des Ornières?"

"I'll take a flight to my new home." Saito replied dryly as they exited the room and walked into the hallways leading outside. As Devers opened the door that led outside, they saw a woman dressed in a green sundress and large hat. When she saw them, or at least Devers, she jogged over. Saito did his best to not stare at her chest as she did so.

"M. Devers?" the young woman asked.

"Yes?" the agent replied indifferently.

"I have a request for you," she said, "Concerning Mathilda."

The agent seemed to know exactly where this conversation would go.

"Go on."

"I do not what she has done to offend you but I beg of you to show her clemency and let her go."

Devers remainde stoic.

"I'm afraid I can't do anything for her. That is up to my superiors to decide."

"Than take me to them!" she insisted, "My sister does not deserve this!"

"That's not possible Miss Westwood." Devers finally said. The woman glared at him before she walked away, angry tears flowing down her cheeks.

"Who was that sir?" Saito said as he saw the woman walk away. He felt pity for her. Who was Mathilda? A prisoner here?

"That's none of your business, M. Hiraga." The agent's voice was curt and steely. "Let's get you home."

* * *

"Mother, I wish to ask of you about one of Father's decisions."

It was during one of the two royals' few meals alone with each other that Henrietta decided to discuss about D'Angleterre. She'd spent a few days thinking on how to approach this topic.

"Yes my dear?" her mother as she sipped on a glass of wine.

"Do you remember the town of D'Angleterre?" Henrietta asked. Her mother tensed up immediately.

"Yes...I expected you to ask me of that." Her mother admitted. Henrietta nodded; the spies that had told her about it mentioned confirming it with her mother. She must've known Henrietta had heard of it.

"What exactly happened?" Henrietta pressed on, "How could Father authorize such a thing?"

"It was a terrible mistake of his part," Archduchess Marianne explained, "Him and Minister Richemont to be exact."

"I know of that."

"An agent of Richemont had returned with the information that the village was hit by a plague. He was given the information by one of the last Pope's agents."

"Pope Louis V? Why was he involved in this?"

Now it was confusing Henrietta. The Papacy had a hand in this tragedy?

"Yes, D'Angleterre, at the time, was also a Protestant haven." Her mother admitted.

"Protestants?" Henrietta repeated. The term referred to reformists within the Romalian church. Worshipers of Brimir still, but people who had different ways of doings things. People who believed the church and nobility were abusing the legacy of the Founder. Henrietta's father, and he'd taught his daughter this same mindset, did not keep track of such things. As far as he was concerned, as long as someone revered Brimir and his descendents, not much else mattered.

But it was still a conflict, one that had caused significant infightening in Romalia during the time King Henry was only a boy, and even the other Blessed Realms. It had not been a bloodless conflict, but most of the horror was confined to Romalia. Pope Vittorio's ascension was just another step the Church had taken to regaining normalcy. Until the Reconquista uprising in Albion shook everything again.

"Yes. D'Angleterre had become a haven for Protestants in Tristain, as well as those fleeing from Romalia and Gallia. Pope Louis V had approached your father about it, but he insisted it was Tristain's affairs and that the Papacy didn't have to worry about insurrection."

"Father spoke against the Pope?" Henrietta was amazed. True, the Papacy had been very weak at the time, but that was still bold. Her mother nodded.

"Now you understand, D'Angleterre was under watch by the Pope for any signs of rebellion."

The queen had a hunch about what came next.

"I am sure now that agent gave us the false news simply to destroy D'Angleterre and its people. There was an illness in Gallia at the same time, one we were all afraid would spread. People were always traveling to the town. So when the lie came...we didn't think it was false."

"Did he not get punished for this?" Henrietta asked. "For killing so many innocents?"

"Pope Louis V claimed he punished him and that we need not worry about him again," her mother suddenly changed her tone, "But we never trusted his word on it and your father always believed that it was Pope Louis V himself that ordered his agent to do so."

"Mother how can you say such things!?" The Church was feared for a reason, but crimes of that scale were unheard of. At most, they would undermine rulers and nobles without directly attacking them. The Church's words could cut a kingdom deeper than any sword. "I know Tristain wasn't the only Blessed Realm with Protestant havens. The Papacy never attacked any of them. The only real bloodshed during the reformation conflicts were in Romalia. Pope Louis spent his whole reign trying to halt violence."

"Because of Jean Colbert," the archduchess explained, "He did not only find Agnes that night during his search for survivors."

"But she was the only survivor no?"

"Yes, but when Colbert arrived at the palace with Agnes, he was so distraught with he had done that he insisted that your father take all of the magical objects he had on him. He wanted to be completely devoid of Brimir's gift after he had misused it. Your father and Cardinal Mazarin talked him out of giving up his staff and convinced him to work to find salvation for his actions that night, but there was one item that Colbert had acquired on that night that your father took."

"What?"

"As he searching for survivors, he found a dying woman who insisted to her last breath to take a ring she had with her, claiming it was a powerful relic that needed by safeguarded from those that seeked its powers. He gave it to us and told us to protect it."

"A ring?" Henrietta put a hand to her chin. Her thoughts drifted to the ring Cromwell had been captured with. "What type of ring was it?"

"I do not know, but Henry seemed to recognize it. Your father and Cardinal Mazarin agreed to entrust it to Romalia after they discussed it in private. I suspect both of them knew more about that ring then they let on. Whatever it was, it was powerful."

Now Henrietta was doubtful. Protestants in possession of a powerful magical artifact...for what? Had they actually been insurrections?

"Your father never brought it up again." Her mother continued. "That event marked the end of Protestants here in Tristain. If there are anymore today, they are surely in hiding. I'm sure you understand now, my dear daughter, that the Church does not operate purely in shadowy ways." Henrietta knew that. And even if the whole thing with Louise had apparently blown over, she knew she was not out of the woods yet.

"Yes, mother, I understand completely." Henrietta nodded, wondering how much the Church had really meddled in her country up to this point. How much they'd meddle in it in the future.

And how she was supposed to keep herself and her subjects safe.

* * *

It had an intense two weeks for Agnes. The shock of discovering who had been responsible for the deaths of her family and destruction of her home to Henrietta's apology what had happened had been emotionally draining… but she bounced back.

Her Queen and Kingdom needed her at her best… though their allies insisted that she see one of their psychologist to help her navigate her emotional turmoil. She hesitated but soon found out how helpful such a person was.

Today was a return to important duties.

"Good day your Majesty, Captain de Milan." Anders said as he and Stanford entered Henrietta's personal study.

"Greetings to both of you," Henrietta said as she motioned for them to sit. Anders carried a suitcase with him.

"What can you tell us from your investigation?" Agnes asked as the two men sat down and unpacked the suitcase. Anders placed a laptop on the table as well as some documents.

"We have a few suspected collaborators and Cromwell loyalists in Albion that our allies in MI6 have been monitoring," Stanford explained as he produced some pictures of people. "Though unfortunately, they couldn't find damning evidence for us."

"I see," Henrietta glanced at the pictures, "I'm afraid I do not recognize any of these nobles either."

"That's what we feared," Stanford replied as he produced another paper, "This is a list of the various factions warring in Albion right now. From what we can gather, the leadership keeps constantly changing. Not to mention allegiances."

"Thus making any effort to retrace who paid these mercenaries even more difficult." Agnes stated, glancing over the Queen's shoulder at the list. So many of the faction names had variations on 'Cromwell', 'Salvation', or 'Republic' in the title. There were even two with the exact same name. How did those people manage over there?

"Exactly Captain. For all we could know, who ever ordered this might even be dead or irrelevant right now. We're in a dead end for this." Anders admitted, "We're starting to consider the faint possibility that Germania might have done this in order to push the invasion of Albion but again, we have very little to base ourselves on."

"I strongly doubt it," Henrietta replied as she shook her head, "One of the Von Zerbst's daughters studies at the Academy and the Emperor would never risk harming a member of one of his most prosperous and loyal families."

Anders noted it down before talking again.

"We've also started investigating who in Tristain collaborated with them, but we'll need your help finding them."

Henrietta nodded seriously.

"What do you require? This is treason that must be punished."

"We're gonna need your help Captain de Milan. Yours and the Musketeers since we consider you to be the most trustworthy force in Tristain right now."

"What is your plan?" Agnes asked without a beat, honored by his words.

"For starters, we know that Menvil was in the employ of your father, your Majesty," Anders stated, "We need to know where this man went after D'Angleterre was razed. Is there any way for us to know what happened to him or the others involved? Colbert is frankly a dead end, but if he's still living Tristain, we have no reason to believe there aren't other people Menvil was on good terms with. People who could've sheltered him."

"I believe that the group was quietly dissolved by my father's orders so there might be a written order somewhere as well as a list of those who were part of it. Perhaps a few people might know of it."

Henrietta crossed her arms, her face in deep concentration as she envisioned the possibilities. It was 20 years ago. A lot of those people could very well have since passed.

"Richemont did, but he's obviously dead. We seized all his official documents but didn't find anything incriminating in them. There is one person…"

"Your Majesty?" Agnes asked.

"Cardinal Mazarin was amongst those who heard of the massacre, but given his station and the Church's involvement, I doubt that he will be willing to speaking about it," Henrietta admitted.

"No harm in trying," Stanford proposed.

"Is there a chance he'll report it to his superiors in the Church though?" Anders pointed out quickly.

"Cardinal Mazarin is loyal to Tristain. He was initially the Church's favored choice for Pope but he refused, preferring to serve the Crown," Henrietta shook her head, "If we can persuade him that it's for the good of Tristain, he will collaborate with us."

"Perhaps we could ask the Archduchess?" Agnes suggested next as Anders noted everything on his laptop.

"We've already discussed with her," he said, "We got some leads but nothing sure yet. We'll ask again."

"My mother was not very involved while my father was king." Henrietta told them. "Hence why she stepped down after he died. Please allow me to ask her, though." The agents nodded respectfully.

"Would there be any places that would contain information about D'Angleterre?" Stanford asked, "An archive or a library? Surely the Palace has something?"

"The Palace has an archive but everything is also duplicated and sent to a secret vault," Henrietta answered, "The vault is under the Academy and Headmaster Osmond is in charge of its protection. He will only open it under my direct orders."

"Would it possible for the Musketeers and one of our teams to visit both?" Anders said. "Just in case there's any discrepancies." It was an excellent system- a corrupt official here in Tristania likely couldn't destroy both copies of a document.

"I can arrange for visits and have the court scribes assist you. As for the Academy, I can ask the headmaster to open the vault."

"Thank you for your help, your Majesty. Hopefully, we'll have this threat to our countries completely dismantled shortly."

* * *

The distant sound of carts could be heard alongside the sound of marching soldiers that headed towards Tarbes. Their royal banners betrayed to what army they belonged. Siesta was watching them enter her hometown.

"Her Majesty's efforts are amazing," her mother said, standing next to her.

"Yes."

Since they had returned to Tarbes with the other refugees, Siesta's family worked hard to rebuild their home and help their surviving friends and neighbors. It had cost almost every écu they had, but in their mind it was worth it.

"Siesta dear, go get your father and tell him it is almost time for lunch."

"Yes Maman," she replied as she went to fetch her father. Siesta walked down the street, waving and greeting whoever she could see. Children played in the cleared street while the sounds of hammers and saws of working men mingled with them. In the distance, fields were being sown with new crops from Earth. The smell of fresh, warm food added to this hopeful day. Occasionally, Siesta would see a poster of the Queen, Trudeau and Trump standing behind a table, their faces concentrated on a map of Tristain. These had popped up recently when royal troops began appearing in Tarbes to help under Henrietta's efforts. The young maid memorized the gaudy but simple message written on it : " _United for our future!"_

The royal troops maintained order as they patrolled the streets or gave help alongside the Canadian and American troops from Clément-sur-Mer.

Siesta and the inhabitants of Tarbes felt hope slowly coming back to them as they rebuild their home. It would not be like before the war, but better, as city development experts and engineers from Canada and the United States were guiding the rebuilding efforts. The girl finally found her father who was helping a family friend. Both men wore bright yellow helmets, simple t-shirts, jeans and thick black gloves and were talking with another man from Earth.

"Papa! Maman says that lunch is ready!"

"I won't take too long," he replied before finishing up with his friend while Siesta waited for him. The pair soon walked back home. When they arrived, there was a man standing at the entrance and talking to Siesta's mother.

"My husband is here," she said, pointing to Franco.

"Good day to you," Franco greeted.

"You are Franco Sasaki?" the stranger asked. There was a large cardboard box next to his feet.

"Yes. On what business are you here?"

The stranger cleared his throat.

"I am a messenger and I have a package for your family," he said as he picked up the box, "It came from Earth."

Siesta's mother looked at it curiously.

"It is from Japan," the delivery man said, "From Ida and Oryou Sasaki."

Everyone's eyes lit up.

"From Cousin Ida?" Franco asked in surprise as he took the package, "I wasn't expecting anything from him. Thank you very much for bringing this."

The man bid them good day before he left. Siesta and her family. They headed back into their unfinished house where food had already been placed on the table by Siesta's siblings who were waiting for a meal.

"Let's see what our family sent us this time." Franco said warmly as he opened the box. Inside was a neat pile of brand new clothing for them, a few smaller boxes and a letter.

 _Hello everyone!_

 _After what happened to Tarbes, we wanted to sent these new clothes to help you start over again and some treats for the children to enjoy. We hope they'll help you get a breath of hope for the future. We are still unable to meet you with you sadly but we're still working on it._

 _However, we also got good news from Great-Grandfather's Zero fighter. It turns out that the American group that bought it has completed the inspections, trials and legal paperwork to make it fly again. They were sent us two pictures of it flying. We kept one and gave you the other. We also got a picture of Great-Grandfather Takeo restored and colourized for you so that you may know what he looked like when he flew into Tristain._

 _Love Ida and Oryou_

Siesta unwrapped one of the boxes, revealing a frame of the Zero soaring climbing majestically in blue skies. There was another frame next to it. This one had a proud young man dressed in thick brown and green clothing standing next to his plane with his arms crossed and a sword at his hip.

"He looks like you dear," Siesta's mother remarked, "A magnificent man."

Franco smiled as his wife opened the box of fresh treats, his children looking at the box in excitement.

"Eat your vegetables and you'll get to eat them," she warned the children with a smile. The family enjoyed the meal and chocolate pastries that they were sent. As Siesta finished off her desert, she heard the familiar sound of helicopters flying over her home. Loud voices from speakers could be heard from outside as well.

"All civilians are to take cover in their home!" the amplified voice ordered, "An Albion vessel has been spotted!"

"What's happening?!" Franco shouted as he made his way to the front door. Looking outside, he could see Tristainian and Earth troops urgently mounting up on a truck.

"Stay indoors until we tell you to come out!" one of the soldiers yelled as he saw Franco. They were running down the street yelling the same at other residents who were curiously coming out of their abodes.

"Papa?" Siesta asked. Her father closed the door and used his arms to push her back into the house.

"Stay inside." He told her. "Our friends will protect us."

* * *

The sound of creaking wood could be heard as the lone ship flew through the skies near the Tristainian coastline. The ship's deck was crammed with people who clung to each other. Many dressed in dirty rags, their faces tired from war, famine and death. Many hoped that the Founder would forgive them for Albion's string of blasphemy.

They fled their dying homeland, hoping that somehow, they would shelter on the continent. Another groan followed by cracking could be heard from the ship's hull, followed by cries of panic as the crew tried to calm their passengers. Adding to the panic was a loud chopping sound that came closer and closer.

"The Outworlders! They're here!"

"How did they find us?!"

"Brimir forgive us!"

They saw two airships drawing nearer to them with almost unnatural agility and speed. Their slim, dark hulls combined with their terrible sounds made them terrifying as they flew circles around the ship. The captain didn't dare push his old, worn ship to go any faster. A white flag was raised on the top most mast, the crew hoping for mercy. The strange airships soon took up positions on each side of the ship and followed them for some time before a third, green one appeared.

"Unidentified ship! You will follow us to a landing area! Should you refuse to cooperate, we will use the necessary force to ensure Tristain's security and destroy you!" A loud voice called out seemingly from within it.

More cries of panic could be heard again but to their credit, the crew stayed calm as they guided their ramshackle ship with the orders from the outworlders. They'd been just about to reach a city on the coast, but the outworlders guided them away from it, further down the coast. They could feel whoever was flying those airships following every one of their moves.

They were guided to a large facility unlike anything they had seen before in their lives where they landed their ramshackle ship. Carriages and musketeers were all around the dock.

The helicopters circled around the Albion airship as orders for an orderly disembarkation were issued. As the passengers and crew disembarked, they were confronted by American and Canadian troops.

"Hands in the air! Hands in the air!" the soldiers shouted as they arrested the crying and terrified newcomers and led them to detention areas. No one dared to resist the armed troops.

Meanwhile, Colonel Hamilton was already on the line with the Pentagon, NDHQ and the Halkeginian Command Headquarters in Tristainia while his staff observed everything through CCTV, taking notes of everything. Devers entered the command center with a swift jog.

"They military?" he asked briskly though he had a suspicion.

"From what we can see, they look like refugees. The ship's barely holding together and doesn't looked armed," Hamilton reported, "We're taking them into custody just to be safe. Think you and your people can start asking questions soon?"

Devers nodded. Refugees. He'd started to wonder if they'd have that, and now it looked like they would.

"We can do that in a couple of hours. This isn't all that surprising though- it's a real shit show on that island."

"My men'll keep them under watch until then, M. Devers. But we can't have them on this base forever."

"I know that Colonel. We'll be talking to the Queen about this. They'll be out of here soon."

It was decided that Cromwell's trial would be overseen by a three judge panel, with one judge from each nation. Prosecutors from America and Canada were gathering evidence and testimony related to Cromwell's crimes, some of it even from Albion prisoners. It helped that some troops during the invasion had thought ahead to photograph and record some evidence of Reconquista's atrocities. It was damning, to understate the matter.

In a move that surprised no one yet still caused unease, a Romalian Inquisitor and his retinue had arrived not long after they started setting things up. Julio had overheard more than enough from complaining nobles about the trial, so no one expected the Pope not to know. That didn't mean they wanted the Church involved though.

But they were here, so they had to decide: did they let them in on the trial? Or did they try Cromwell and then hand him over to the inquisitor? The Canadian and American government knew of the influence of the Church and how they wanted the man's blood.

And how far they might go to get it.

There was also another issue that appeared: the judicial systems were completely different. Simply put, Canadian and American courts had the same judicial traditions that guided them… but Tristain's judicial system was very different, being similar to the pre-revolutionary French system. The involvement of the Romalian Inquisitor made things worse since his organization also had its own judicial system.

As such, there was a series of meetings between the Earth, Tristainian and Romalian parties that were involved in the first war crime trial in Halkeginia in order to find a compromise.

"Inquisitor Bagdolio, I believe that we may give you a compromise that will satisfy his Holiness' inquisition," Prosecutor Rutherford stated. The grey haired Canadian held his notes in his hands about what he learned on the local judicial system, his face as cold as the Canadian winter as he spoke in an even tone.

"What is this proposition that may satisfy us?" the Inquisitor asked, sitting across the table and dressed in the black and white robes of the Romalian Inquisition. His stern gaze betrayed his disdain for his Earth counterpart and his judicial ways.

"After we've spoken with our leaders, we have decided that we will not prosecute Cromwell on any religious offense since our laws do not cover such aspects. We consider that those who worship Brimir shall be those who will prosecute him. We will only prosecute him for military crimes against the Tristainian people and government."

"And after discussion with the Queen," the Tristainian judge stated, "we have decided any sentence put upon Cromwell will be delayed until a heresy trial is conducted. If necessary, we will stay the sentence entirely to the one the Church gives out."

"This is all a great waste of time," Inquisitor Bagdolio sneered, "What does this accomplish besides delaying the heretic's death?"

"It is to make an example of him so that other would-be warlords would get an idea of what awaits them if they try to do the same thing as him." Rutherford replied firmly, "It is to send out a message that such actions are to be punished accordingly. Cromwell will not be remembered as a enemy king, only a criminal. He will have no legacy."

"A swift trial and prompt execution is more than enough for such a foul blasphemer," Bagdolio argued, "To be remembered as a heretic will be enough to destroy his legacy."

"The trial that we wish to conduct will destroy his legacy by showing each and every single evidence of his cruelty and madness for everyone to see," the prosecutor calmly replied, "All but the most fanatical followers will recognize that his actions were cruel and inhumane. We will also able to get his worst accomplices for their crimes as well."

Bagdolio had a sour look on his face as he mulled over Rutherford's words.

"If anything, our trial might even help yours as our people are gathering as much information and evidence as possible. Evidence you could use in your own trial."

Bagdolio's eyes narrowed as he realized the situation he was in. There was a few moments before he spoke again.

"I wish to retire. Our discussions have been tiring for me and I desire some rest to reflect over them."

"But of course," Rutherford said politely, "Perhaps some well-earned rest will give you a clearer mind for further discussions."

"We can adjourn this meeting early and discuss this in the afternoon?" the Tristainian judge proposed. The others nodded in agreement.

A few hours later, the legal servants were once more reunited. Bagdolio had a stony face though his eyes had a shade of disdain in them as he sat down at the table with the others.

"I hope that your rest has been helpful in clearing your mind," Rutherford said.

"It has allowed me to better glimpse the complexity of the situation," the inquisitor replied, "My party and I were able to discuss about the proposals that were brought forward with our latest discussions."

"Have you been able to reach a conclusion?" the Tristainian judge asked.

"Yes. Your words have been quite convincing Prosecutor Rutherford. The compromise that you have proposed is acceptable by this Inquisitor." He turned to the Tristainian judge. "And we thank the Kingdom of Tristain for its willingness to delay its own retribution to allow the Church to prosecute and punish Oliver Cromwell for heresy."

"We welcome you for your words. It is only proper that the Church should be tasked with judging such affronts against our Founder," the judge said.

All sides had come to an agreement to avoid confrontation. Cromwell's fate was inevitable, but the one between Earth and Halkegenia was still up in the air.

* * *

The Royal Carriage came to a halt in front of the Academy's gates. Fanfares announced the arrival of Queen Henrietta as she disembarked from her carriage and entered the Academy flanked by Agnes and the Musketeers. As she entered the front gate, students and staff, dressed in their finest clothes, were already assembled, awaiting for her arrival. Cheers could be heard from the student body while Old Osmond and Colbert were waiting for her.

"Greetings your Majesty," the elderly headmaster said as he bowed, "What is the meaning of your presence? I have assembled the students as you have ordered in your letter."

"Thank you Headmaster," Henrietta replied. "I'm here to recognize an Order I've heard was taking form within the Academy."

"The Knights of Undine?" he asked as they made their way to a podium. Guiche stood nearby in his finest clothes.

"Yes. As you have known, I am in the process of rebuilding the Royal Army," she explained, "When I heard that a former student whose many deeds chose to levy a small group of volunteers from the student body to guard the Academy, I saw an opportunity."

"You mean young Gramont's initiative?"

"Yes, his father told me about it. I am quite impressed by his idea," Henrietta said before she made her way up the podium. She amplified her voice using magic as she stood before her students.

"Good morning students of the Tristain Academy of Magic. I am present before you today because word of your own initiative has reached my ears. You have seen weakness and aspired to confront it. You have risen to serve your kingdom. This initiative must be rewarded and so, on this day, I pronounce the reforming of the Knights of Undine, an ancient order of knights that once served the Crown and people of Tristain."

She turned to Guiche who was waiting for her word.

"Chevalier de Gramont, once again you show dedication and loyalty to the Blessed Water Throne of Tristain and her people. You have already done much for our kingdom yet still find way to serve. Come forward, Chevalier."

Guiche stepped up before taking a knee before his queen.

"For your efforts in ensuring the security of this Academy, I pronounce thee Captain of the Knights of Undine."

Cheers could be heard from the gathered students.

"Your Highness, it's an honor that will I carry faithfully," Guiche stated. "The Knights of Undine will serve Tristain with pride no matter what is asked of us."

"Rise, Chevalier de Gramont. May you and your knights be ever triumphant in your undertakings."

Henrietta beamed as the crowds clapped and celebrated. The Knights of Undine were another group of loyal nobles that would serve the Crown in the times to come. With war looming on the horizon, this was a much needed boon.

Despite the outward confidence, excitement, and approval, not everyone in the crowd was truly happy. Many of the students knew from corresponding with their parents that an invasion of Albion was on the horizon. Many had more than enough of war. They had joined Guiche's volunteers simply because they wanted to feel safe in their own school… not take part in another campaign. Others volunteers were more approving… having signed up out of either a sense of duty, a desire to avenge another humiliation or simply because it was exciting.

But whatever happened, they would face it. They could all agree on that, at least.

 **Author's endnote: Things are moving aren't they? Hope you enjoyed reading as much as we enjoyed writing it.**


	21. Chapter 19: Casting the die

**Author's Note:** **An apology in advance to the series lore fanatics on the geography of Halkegenia as will be discussed later in this chapter. We did research to the best of our ability, although there's some things too vague to be certain about.**

 **Big apologies for the long delay too… 45h workweeks tend to kill energy fast.**

 **Character trivia:**

 **-Inspiration for Emperor Albert III of Germanian comes from Morvran Voorhis from Witcher III: Wild Hunt.**

 **-Badoglio is an actual Italian name... I got from looking at a page on WW2 Italy.**

 **Onto to the new chapter... enjoy and review!**

 **Casting the die**

Candles flickered lightly in an ornate study, their light illuminating the finely built desk and the ancient tomes neatly packed in great bookshelves. The occupant of the room was putting away the book he was reading when he heard a knock.

"Enter, my old friend," Vittorio ordered as the door opened, revealing Julio carrying a small journal. "It brings me joy to see you return after so long."

"Your Eminence," he greeted, "I am here to report the conclusions of my investigations in Tristain."

"Your devotion to the Founder is commendable as always. I have read your letters about the nations of Earth and the events in Tristain," the Pope replied as he pointed to a chair. Both sat down at the pontiff's desk. "What has happened since our last letter?"

"You have heard about Inquisitor Bagdolio's predicament if I am not mistaken. When I left, he was still being misled."

"Yes, I do not like how the events have played out, but we must use this to our advantage," Vittorio answered, brushing it off casually, "Have you been successful in your endeavours concerning the Void Mage?"

"Ah, I'm afraid I didn't make any more efforts after my first embarrassment." Julio confessed. "The Queen may bring it up next time you meet her. Please forgive me for my failures, your Eminence. I think that bringing the youngest of the Vallière girls to us will require a little more finesse benefitting your talents."

"Oh? How so?" Pope Vittorio encouraged him to go on.

"She is a devout noble, one doing her utmost to better serve the Founder's teachings and her kingdom." Julio paused. "But the issue lays in her familiar: he is from the other world. He was summoned months before the portal connecting both worlds opened. I'm not sure if the two are connected, but the people from that world seem unusually interested in him. I feel like they were guarding him from me. They were simply around him and the Void Mage at all times. I don't think their reasons were so selfish as to keep Void Magic to themselves. They care for their individual commoners greatly. I think their fear was simply he would leave outside their protection."

"Hmm…" Vittorio pondered. "That is interesting." He nodded. "The Founder works in mysterious ways, Julio. This portal and those beyond it have strengthened the weakest of the Blessed Realms and destroyed the heretics in our midst. Now they stand in our world, able to teach us the ways of the weapons gifted by the Founder so that we may reclaim the Holy Lands and save our peoples from destruction. I've come to conclude it was Brimir's will to bring these people to Halkegenia to do just that."

"I believe it, your excellency. Only a divine power could bring these events into motion. But returning to the matter of the Tristainian Void Mage, what shall we do?"

"He is branded as her familiar, yes?" The Pope asked. Julio nodded.

"He is Gandalfr reincarnated, and is possibly already bound to one of the lost relics of the Founder." Julio confirmed. "He had a talking sword. Such was described in the legends, was it not?" A small smile graced Vittorio's lips as he nodded. So not only did they find the Tristainian Void Mage, they found possibly the most useful Void familiar in the same breath. Gandalfr had the power to master any weapon. A being who could unlock all the secrets in the vaults beneath their very feet. They didn't even require the outworlders.

"It seems that the Founder has chosen to bless us greatly," Vittorio remarked.

"There is still that one issue though your Eminence," Julio stated, "Is that the Gandalfr's loyalties may not lie wholly with the Void Mage. The circumstances are not the same. He is in contact with his world and his family. He is not bound in the same way as most familiars and seems to be highly independent."

One of the properties of familiar runes was to alleviate the chosen creature's homesickness as to bind them even closer to the mage who'd summoned them. But no one could be quite sure how effective that could be with the unusual circumstances described. Human familiars were still intelligent beings. Julio was an exception-he had no true home before being summoned by Vittorio and thus had no homesickness to deal with.

"If these circumstances hinder his attachment to the Void Mage, we will remove him." Vittorio stated simply. "Just as Void can pass on when a holder is struck down, so can the familiars' powers." Julio nodded, not at all phased by the suggestion. "We will see when the Void Mage comes to Romalia."

"She will surely come if you summon her personally, your Eminence. But I'd advise we wait, as Queen Henrietta will likely take her on the re-conquest of Albion. We have time while we are searching for the other Void Mages. Have you any luck in my absence?" Vittorio represented Romalia's Void Mage. They'd found Tristain's. Somewhere out there were a Albionian and Gallian Void Mage. Those four together would usher in what glorious future Brimir promised to his followers.

Vittorio closed his eyes.

"I'm afraid not. Gallia has reported no strange mages in their Royal Family. But this invasion may be our opportunity for Albion. I do not believe the entire Tudor bloodline died out in the war. Such could not come to pass; the Founder wouldn't allow it. There is a Albionian Void Mage somewhere."

"Queen Henrietta traces her bloodline back to Albion. Is it possible we may find the Albionian Void Mage in Tristain as well?"

"Very possible." Vittorio conceded. "The Founder's descendants have not always been… faithful, and the bloodlines of the Realms have not always stayed unmixed. There are likely dozens in each of the Blessed Realms who carry holy blood in their veins. Even small amounts may be enough for the Void to materialize."

"It could explain why the portal appeared in Tristain," Julio realized suddenly, "Perhaps it is a sign that the Blessed Realm of Water bears two of the Void Mages."

"It would be very possible, Julio." The Pope conceded. "In the coming months, I will trust you to find out."

"Your Eminence?"

"Aside from our clergy, I have instructed one of our orders to join Tristain and Germania in bringing Albion back to the Founder's ways. I will also send you when the time is right for I want you to look for the Void Mage in Albion, and to keep your eye on the Tristainian Void Mage. You said Henrietta has the Wind Ring. We need only find the Music Box now. The Tudors were a faithful bunch. I have no doubt they hid it well."

"Understood your Eminence. I will do my best."

"I do not expect you to disappoint me Julio," Vittorio assured. "You have always been quite successful in your tasks. But onto more pleasant things: how are the emissaries from the outworlder nations enjoying our fine city?"

"They are touring as we speak. I left them in good hands and they have expressed their appreciations for the lodgings we have supplied. They are very eager for the meeting tomorrow."

"Splendid. I am looking forward to meeting them. You may leave for tonight," the Pope said as he began standing up.

"One more thing, your Eminence." Julio stopped him as he remembered something else that stuck out. The Pope nodded for him to go on and sat back down. "I have heard other interesting things as well," Julio continued warily, "Things I dared not say in letters. Namely, the subject of D'Angleterre is being brought up by certain members of Henrietta's court and the otherworlders during hushed conversations. The outworlders especially are questioning many people concerning this former nest of Protestants." He could see a mix of anger, annoyance and concern flicker over the Pope's serene face. "It seems that one of the men that took the Tristain Academy of Magic hostage was a mage involved in the event, as was one of the professors at the school. They are trying to uncover the mysteries of both men and the event under the guise of preventing further attacks."

Vittorio leaned forward.

"Do you know anything about their progress?" He asked gravely. "Did this attempt to free Cromwell connect to what happened that night?" Julio shook his head.

"If what you told me was correct, the Queen was not even born at the time of the event. The hostage taker was obviously killed by the outworlders' soldiers. The Archduchess of Tristain and the unknown professor at the school may be the only ones who know anything, although what they know and whether or not they've spoken of it is not something I can tell you, I'm afraid. As for any connections the event had to the heretic, I am also unaware."

"My mother was a fool." Pope Vittorio sighed softly, staring at the ring on his finger. "What happened at D'Angleterre was a necessary tragedy."

"Yes, your Eminence." Julio confidently replied, "It was necessary for our salvation."

"Do we know who this professor is though?" the Pope asked, getting back on subject. One man had brought back what the Church wanted in D'Angleterre. That one man knew enough of the truth to be of concern. It could've been the man killed at the academy, or it could've been the professor. If it was the latter, then the secrets of that dark night were not completely buried.

"My suspicion extends to the entire teaching staff . All of the teachers at the Academy are old enough to have been involved, and all of them are very accomplished mages capable of the power that was shown."

"Very well, who do you suspect most?"

Julio leaned back in thought after quickly browsing his notes.

"I'm afraid I cannot say. There is simply not enough evidence that can give me a solid lead. Not even the students are sure. Whoever they are, they seem desperate to live a quiet life." That was reassuring, but the Church had to be sure. There could be no loose ends.

"Even so, we must make sure that this person never speaks of it again." The Pope declared. "I will send someone immediately to investigate." He was already thinking of ways to getting another agent into Tristain. "Unless there is anything else you feel the need to speak of, you may leave."

"No, your excellency." Julio stood up before he left.

* * *

The holy city of Romalia might've been the twin city of Rome during the days of the Roman Empire's greatest heights or when the Catholic Church was the dominant political and religious power in old Europe. Everything was massive but at the same time shiny, clean, and artistic. The paved streets were well ordered while the buildings were grandiose. Their whiteness amplified the sunlight, giving everything a glorious feel to it. Well dressed people tended to their business while the members of the Brimiric clergy were everywhere with their symbols of faith.

Their first evening here for the American and Canadian delegation had been like stepping into a history book. Even the Inn they'd been generously hosted in was very comfortable and well staffed. On the surface, everything was clean.

For the cynics and watchful eyes in the group though, they were sure there was more to it than what they were seeing. Not doubt that Romalia had its own dark little secrets and unsavoury sides. Something that would be of use to them. They just had to find it.

Their first day had been spent being walked around and told about all the important or historical buildings. They only saw a small part of the building they'd be meeting the Pope in tomorrow. They passed through cemeteries, religious colleges, and a busy marketplace constructed of a lot of brilliant white marble.

The whole time they were being noticed by the residents of the city, commoner, noble, clergy, and worshipper. Everyone regarded them curiously, but the clergy gave them the most scrutiny. They may have only just stepped foot here, but that class of people had heard of them long in advance. But for the rest? They were being escorted by the Church, so they were allowed to be there as far as they were concerned.

They also got their first glances at Romalia's terrestrial warfare capabilities on that second day, as carriages carried them closer to the outskirts of the great city. From academic and oral sources in Tristain, Romalia was not a military superpower. They had been once, but that had waned; for how feared they were, the Church was supposedly at the weakest it had ever been. There were a lot of orders in the Capital though. Holy warriors. Knightly figures on horse or other fantastical creatures. If there was a standing Army, it didn't have any bases in the Capital of Romalia, and they realized it probably wasn't a good idea to question the fact.

The closest confirmation they got was a very curious and simultaneous concerning sight at what seemed to be a small nature reserve: Giant tortoises. Not the strangest wildlife that had been seen here in Halkegenia, but these ones had a certain oddity to them- they had cannons mounted to their shells. You could call them a few things. Horitzers. Or even self-propelled artillery. They had an odd sense of technological intelligence behind them.

"Those are amazing creatures." Consul Mortimer told their guide. "We have many like them back in our world, but they are much smaller."

"Ah, those. Magnificent creatures, are they not?" The guide asked. "They've existed along the coastlines of Romalia and Gallia since the days of the Founder."

"Were they always steeds for warriors?"

"They were diligent work animals, but these are a very recent idea. A concept blessed upon our most intelligent warriors on how we could more thoroughly protect Brimir's faithful."

"Interesting," Mortimer said politely, but the creatures reminded him of certain American weapons systems, "And this idea is recent?"

"Yes, some of our knights realized the potential of the tortoises as a weapons platform." Julio explained as they headed to their next destination. The security detail mentally noted down this information. Weapons had shown up in this world before. Aircraft had shown up in this world before. Could a tank or any other armored vehicle do the same? The resemblance was uncanny enough to make them wonder.

The group continued moving through Romalia on their way to the meeting with Julio explaining the city's long and rich history. They were regaled with stories of the deeds of past saints, the exploits of heroic knights and the feats of past clergymen. The glorious tales of piety seemed a bit too good to be true for Earth's delegations, folk tales even. It almost as if their host was putting a good front, hiding the darker sides of the Papacy and Holy See under a fine veneer. That afternoon took them back to the center of the city, to a site they'd already seen yesterday. The great white tower stood proudly as it was basked in sunlight. A great wall surrounded the building with five smaller towers connecting to the central tower by arches. The design was slightly reminiscent of the Tristain Academy of Magic.

It was the Holy See of Romalia, home of the Pope. Its courtyards were empty of pilgrims, no doubt because of the important meeting that was to take place. Armoured knights stood proudly at attention as the Earth delegation disembarked and were given a tour of the grounds outside.

* * *

Meanwhile, Pope Vittorio waited in the great hall while the highest members of the church's clergy stood to the side. While Julio had taken their guests on a tour, the holy men had spent their morning down in the vaults looking over the many relics that had been acquired. Pieces of horseless chariots, metal war turtles with mighty canons, advanced field guns or air ships. Many had been too big for their agents to safely bring from the Elven lands, but they'd brought back pieces with writing on them and drawings of the full constructs. A few of these constructs had been fully recovered and silently waited until they could be awakened for battle. They had plenty of other items they did have intact- advanced muskets, small spheres, and other oddities that were unknown but more than mundane. All of this was hastily looked at while more mundane weapons like swords and spears were ignored.

However, there was no longer any doubt about their origins. A few of the larger relics had flags that were identical to the outworlders' flags, and writing that named their nations. The United States more than Canada. As far as they could tell, a little under a fourth of the vault's contents came from the nations they were about to confer with. Vittorio and the Romalian clergy had mixed feelings about this realization.

There was awe. Just how wondrous was Earth if they could develop such mighty devices for warfare alone? Some members of the clergy wondered if having so many different faiths on one world meant that the faithful fought regularly for their gods' favor and caused Earth's weaponsmiths to forge such constructs. They simply couldn't wait to meet the delegation.

Others were fearful. Would Earth force its gods on Halkeginia? Would they bring bloodshed and death… but most importantly, would they sway Brimir's descendants from his Light with false promises and fake idols?

The door swung open, revealing Julio with the Earth delegation in tow. They stood out, their clothes being elegant but far simpler than the clergy's ornate robes.

"Greetings consuls of Earth," Vittorio said, his arms raised, "I, Pope Vittorio Serevare, Saint-Aegis the 32nd, Shield of the Founder, bid you welcome to Romalia and the Holy Temple of Saint-Forcythe."

The Earth delegation respectfully took a knee before standing back up.

"Thank you, your Eminence," Consul Mortimer replied in kind, "It is with great hope that President Trump has sent me to meet you. The United States of America and its people wish for friendship and peace with the Holy Church of Brimir."

"As a representative of Canada, I carry a desire from Prime Minister Trudeau and the Canadian people to have good relations with Founder Brimir's Church so that both our worlds may prosper," Thompson said.

Vittorio was no fool. Wishes of goodwill were pleasant to hear… but would these people truly honour their words? He smiled before he answered.

"I am very happy that your nations share the same wishes of peace that the Church of Brimir strives to reach" Vittorio said as he stood up from his throne, "You are no doubt weary after your journey. Let us speak over a warm meal."

Julio nodded before guiding the diplomatic parties to the banquet hall. The clergymen silently followed their pontiff who led both groups into the hall. Fresh, warm awaited them on a sumptuous table with luxurious chairs.

"Your artisans are amazing," Thompson complimented as he sat down, "Such fine woodworking is very prized in Canada."

"Thank you. The chairs were a gift that one of my predecessors received from a Gallian Duke," Vittorio answered politely

"You're welcome, your Eminence," Mortimer replied as Vittorio and the clergy looked at intently.

"From my discussion with Emissary Chésaré, I understand that your rulers have long sought to meet with the Church. Why is that?" the pope asked as he sipped on a glass of wine.

"Allow me to answer, your Eminence," Mortimer spoke up, "As our leaders seek only peace and prosperity with the many kingdoms of Halkegenia, they saw good relations with the Church of Brimir as being critical to reaching such objectives. We understand that your word holds much weight amongst the people and is crucial in maintaining peace between the Blessed Realms."

"May I speak your Eminence?" one of the clergymen politely asked.

"You may, Archbishop de Coligny."

"What are your leaders' intentions in this world? We have heard that you possess great means and devices that far outmatch ours," the clergyman addressed the consuls, "What do you have to gain from being here?"

"Wealth and knowledge of course," Mortimer said nonchalantly, "Many of our scholars back home are excited about being able to explore this new world and discover things that do not exist on Earth."

"Explore?" The Archbishop repeated. "What is it that you hope to find?"

"We don't know. But there is something surely out there. Other people. Creatures. Civilizations. We are nations of scholars as much as we are warriors or merchants."

"We have heard of many of your scholars in Tristain and Germania. I witnessed them myself. I presume they would want to come here as well?" Julio guessed.

"Yes, many of our scholars would be thrilled to come to Romalia for the chance to further explore the world as well as learn about its rich history. To work together to explore the world. We've heard of many places to the South and East of the Blessed Realms, but there is little information on them. Even the peninsula to the West of here. And we've heard there's an Elven nation South of here, across the ocean. This country is much closer to all of them that we hope there is more information."

"Ah, those lands." Pope Vittorio nodded. "That peninsula is a harsh land, filled with monsters and foul demons. It is a place no human dwells except barbarians. As for the East, you will find only deserts and untamed land filled with even more horrible creatures. Or Elves."

"The Holy Lands are in the South." One of the Cardinals stated.

"We are aware." The Canadian Consul nodded politely, but the Cardinal kept speaking.

"And it was ours, until we were forced out." The man was stopped by Pope Vittorio raising a hand. The young Pontiff addressed the foreigners again.

"Your ambitions are admirable," Vittorio admitted. "We find common ground in them. But is knowledge all you truly seek?" He probed.

"We seek wealth as well. Trade can only be beneficial for both our worlds." Thompson stated, "And connections with other nations."

"Even with the Elven realms?" Vittorio inquired, "They resist all overtures from humans for thousands of years already. Do you think that you can change their stance?" Both consuls paused for a moment. While it'd be a lie to say Earth hadn't considered it, they knew that it conflicted with their primary goal of playing nice with the Church on top of the difficulty it would inevitably involve. It wasn't anything they were seriously committed to.

"We will only seek connections with mutually agreeing parties. We've come to understand well from our hosts in Tristain that diplomacy with Elves is impractical."

"It is more than impractical, it is heretical!" de Coligny exclaimed suddenly, "The Elves are responsible for the death of our Founder-"

"Please Archbishop," Vittorio silenced the man, "Our guests have not been blessed with the light of the Founder nor have they heard of how he suffered for our well-being and salvation." The Pope looked at the two consuls directly, and while his face still appeared kind, there was a certain sharpness in his eyes. "But it seems they already have the wisdom to recognize the Elves for the threat that they are."

"As we have said, if the Elves do not wish to do business with us, we shall let them be," Mortimer firmly stated, "We do not seek any needless conflict with any nation in Halkegenia but we will defend ourselves and our allies from any threats."

"Such as the invasion of Tristain?" de Coligny asked. The consuls nodded.

"Yes, we intervened as Tristain was savagely attacked and under direct threat," Mortimer replied, "As well as our nations. There was simply no other option."

"Needless conflict is rare. Often, it is only an option for when the only alternative is destruction." The Pope had a slight smile on his face. "If you are willing to fight only to ensure the people of Tristain live, I feel our realms will get along very well." There was something uncomfortable in that statement.

"We hope so," Mortimer said, "We understand the Church has some concerns about our people, but we assure you we have no intentions of harm against any Halkagenian people or nation. If the Church is willing to be upfront with us about any concerns it has, we are sure we can overcome them in the interest of a permanent diplomatic relationship."

"We have many." One of the Cardinals stated.

"Then please express them."

"How will know that you will not spread your faiths to our people?" he asked.

"Our nations have been built on the concept of not imposing on one's faith. We believe such a decision belongs with the individual, who and how they chose to worship. We hold this same approach to dealing with other nations."

"But what are your faiths?" Another Cardinal asked. "Who are the Gods in your world, and what do they want of their followers?" The Consuls took a moment to compose themselves. They'd expected this line of questioning. They'd prepared well for it. No one pretended they could skate past without revealing this. They just had to explain it in the most inoffensive and reassuring way.

"We have many gods that are worshipped by many different faiths," Thompson explained, "And it would take us far too long to name them all."

"Then what is the one your peoples worship the most?" The same Cardinal pressed.

"In both of our countries, most of the populations follow the religion of Christianity." And so, the Romalians sat while the two men explained the branches of Christianity. All but Julio and the Pope seemed wide eyed as they dipped into details of the Catholic Church and Protestantism. There was quite a few ressemblances such as the existence of a Catholic pope but, the Earth representatives moved on from that as quickly as they could to explaining the more positive principles, such as forgiveness and tolerance.

No one here needed to know more than necessary about the Crusades and the Wars of Religion. Those were glossed over, with reconciliation being stressed. Even though their hosts looked perturbed by it, they were polite to let them finish the explanation.

It was, Pope Vittorio thought to himself, appropriate to a people who had no magic or nobility. Why had Brimir chose that world to connect to through the power of Void?

"And has this faith, or any faith in your world, spoken of this world or the Founder Brimir?" Vittorio simply asked after the explanation was done.

"We confess, no religious scholar in our world has ever found anything detailing this. May we extend the question back to you?"

"We have never heard of your realms until you showed up over a year ago." The Pope answered truthfully. Had the Founder heard of them though? It was his magic that pulled weapons from that world to theirs. If he did, then how come he had left no mention to his descendents?

"How old is your world?" The Pope suddenly asked, something crossing his mind. Weapons had been appearing for only the last several hundred years, but still thousands after the age of the Founder. At first they were simple swords and spears… but then the weapons became more and more elaborate and incomprehensible. Until only recently, but even now there were still things they didn't understand.

"Our world is quite old but the oldest civilization known is around 4000 years," Thompson replied, "If I recall correctly. Humans themselves have existed for longer but the first known stories date from 4000 years."

"Yours is a younger world, but still more advanced." The Pope pondered while his fellow clergy stiffened. If there was anything Vittorio was resented for in the institution, it was his consistently relaxed posture. "Yet, our worlds are so similar."

"They are similar, but each is unique. Different forces have shaped each. We fully believe that each should retain that uniqueness in accordance with what shaped it."

"A wise insight." Vittorio replied, "But it would be remiss of both sides to not gain something from the other. Tristain has certainly gained from developments created in your world, and by your own words, you have gained from both Tristain and Germania."

"Yes, our dealings with each other have proven to be quite beneficial and brought wealth to all four nations," Thompson said.

"What is the nature of your dealings with Germania?" de Coligny asked, "You do know that they are not amongst the Blessed Realms?"

"We are aware Germania started out as a barbarian nation before magic appeared in its population but as we have said before," Mortimer replied firmly, "We do not discriminate on who does business with us. Germania and its leaders have chosen to conduct fair trade with us."

"Do you seek a military alliance with them like the one you hold with Tristain?"

"We prefer the term 'Mutual Defense Treaty'." Thompson corrected, "We merely defend each other's lands and interests in Halkeginia and strive to prevent any military conflict overall. Anyone attacking Tristain will be opposed by Canada and the United States as well."

"Will you extend such an offer to Germania?" Vittorio casually asked.

"It will depend on how our relations evolve over the next few months." Mortimer answered.

"Then I presume that you will apply the same logic to Romalia?"

"Yes, your Eminence. If you and the Church of Brimir are willing to cooperate with us, we will be eventually be willing to extend such an offer."

"You are polite, concise, and honest." Vittorio said. "You have convinced us." He conceded, to the slight discomfort of his retinue. "Then let us pursue cooperation," Vittorio declared as he held a glass of wine, "To peace and prosperity between the nations of Earth and Brimir's descendants."

"To peace and prosperity!" the consuls agreed as they raised their glasses. There was still a lot to do in regards to setting up a permanent diplomatic presence, but this was a very important part of the proceedings successfully pulled off.

* * *

The mirror in Henrietta's closet shimmered before Saito leapt out of it excitedly. Following him in a much more restrained manner was Devers, dressed professionally for once instead of combat-focused. "That's certainly something." The agent conceded. An instant portal that covered over 50 miles of distance in a minute. If they could get this stuff working on Earth, it'd be more revolutionary than goddamn anything. "It's good for quick escapes."

"It's reassuring that you're thinking of my friends' safety instead of interrogating them." Henrietta said with no subtleness as the two males stepped back into her room. Devers didn't respond to the jibe. With the fact Earth had backpadeled on getting involved with the invasion and had to request her permission to get involved, she had every reason to be smug. But as far as the US and Canada were concerned, they still had a good enough footing in this world to not care.

"How come mirrors like that aren't more common?" The agent asked instead. "Are they hard to make? We were under the impression that such a thing as teleportation wasn't possible." Being fixed to a certain location though, it was a very restricted example of the concept.

"Feats that don't correspond to the 4 elements often need other magically imbued items to create them. Things that are products of nature rather than humans. Such things are rare, though. I think my grandfather made this mirror with some artifact he acquired in his youth. Creating magical items is done more for self than any profit."

"I see," Devers said, mentally noting what she said as they exited her quarters, thinking. Maybe their VIP in Albion had some magical artifact on them rather than some innate ability. She certainly hadn't disappeared into a mirror like they had. It didn't solve the security risk, but it was a better theory than blundering in the dark. "Well, that was a fun distraction. But I believe we all have a banquet to attend." The mismatched group started making its way downstairs.

America and Canada may have gotten themselves and the UN back into this invasion, but it was still a Halkegenia led affair, which meant it was being planned the Halkagenian way- informally over a banquet. If they wanted to get involved, they had to do it the local way. So, there'd be Earth attendants to the banquet hosted between Queen Henrietta, Emperor Albert III, and groups of their highest ranking nobles. Louise, her mother, and Saito were included in the former's party. Devers was representing the American-Canadian-British intelligence operation. Colonel Hamilton and Brigadier Carigan were attending with the ambassadors from each of their nations. Someone had arrived from the UN too, a Belgian representative of the organization.

Even the Romalian Inquisitor would be attending, although withholding from any meal. He was just there to make sure the Church stayed informed.

Everyone was bringing their own guards, except for Devers; he carried his own protection on him always. Every guard would be posted against the banquet hall walls far away from the table. Close enough to get there in a hurry, but not without being noticed. It was going to be a pleasant night discussing only the fate of an entire nation and a few million people.

Hopefully.

Right now, it was only the Tristainians there; the rest would be arriving shortly. Back in the banquet room, Saito hurried to sit with Louise and her mother and Henrietta strode gracefully back to her chair at the front of the table with du Poitier seated close to her. Devers sat on the side of the table where the rest of the reserved seats were and stayed quiet and out of the way as the Tristainians talked among themselves.

Some time later, the doors swung open, followed by trumpets sounding off. They heralded the arrival of the Germanian Emperor, Albert III. He was a young and large man, with blond hair. His face was clean shaven while his ice-cold eyes shone with a mix of arrogance and contempt. Flanking him were several well dressed nobleman, all of equally great size though slightly shorter than the man they followed. Knights in black heavy armor, carrying large shields, halberds, and wearing winged helmets followed with heavy footsteps.

"Welcome to Tristain, Emperor Albert." Henrietta stood to greet the man.

"Queen Henrietta." The Emperor greeted the woman to whom only over a year ago he'd been engaged to. "You have become quite the woman since the last time we met."

"Thank you." She accepted that pseudo-compliment with grace.

"I am quite happy that you have come to your senses concerning Albion," the Emperor continued, "I must once more apologize for my inability to aid your Realm during the Reconquista invasion."

"I accept your apology, Emperor Albert, but your armies may show their worth during the pacification of Albion. Please, have a seat. The rest of our guests will be arriving in due time."

"Yes, of course." He sat down at the other end of the table, directly opposite of Henrietta. The nobles accompanying him sat down around him and his guards went to stand by the walls next to the Musketeers. "Who is this fellow?" He motioned to Devers.

"George Devers, your Imperial Majesty," the agent introduced politely, "I help America's armed forces."

"Yes, I've seen them guarding your Embassy in Vindabona. They are fine looking men. Strong and powerful. I will be eager to see them in action in Albion"

"They're Marines, the most elite of my nation's military." Devers didn't mention that, as much as Earth could help it, there wouldn't be any fighting in Albion.

"I see why. They are at least comparable to the youngest members of my Imperial Watch," the Emperor boasted, trying to impress Devers, but the agent remained passive.

"From what I can see, they are very impressive. I don't think I've seen armor like theirs, either here or in Albion."

"Ah, but that's Germanian magesmithing! The finest on the continent!" Albert boasted, "The Imperial treasury is able to finance such things for some of the Imperial Army's finest troops."

Devers nodded.

"If I am not mistaken, I believe that Ambassador Schmidt purchased a suit of Germanian armour." the American stated politely. Devers knew the man had, just like he knew it now adorned his private residence. The people who'd analyzed it hadn't dinged it up a bit.

"Yes, yes I remember discussing with him. He was very interested in expanding his personal collection of armour. A very shrewd negotiator, by all accounts!"

The door opened again, this time to a smaller part of only two people: The Special Envoy of the Secretary General of the United Nations, Jean-Charles Lejeune, and his guard.

"Greeting Envoy Lejeune," Henrietta said as the man entered the room.

"Thank you, your Majesty," the envoy replied, "I have been looking forward to coming back here."

"I hope that we will be able to entertain you properly then. Have your travels to Germania been well?" Henrietta asked. The UN Representative had spent some time in Tristain, but curiosity had led him on a short trip to Germania too. Curiosity, and a desire to see the spot Earth businessmen and cameras were nowhere near as common.

"I have no doubt of that. As for my travels to Germania, his Imperial Majesty's court has been a very pleasant experience," Lejeune said as he glanced over to Albert III before he sat down next to the rest of Earth's representatives.

"My court has always been able to properly greet our guests, especially ones of great importance as you." the Emperor boasted before shifting his tone, "But what does the United Nations want from Albion? You are not warriors."

"That is precisely why the United Nations are getting involved, your Imperial Majesty. The situation in Albion is a major humanitarian crisis that cannot be ignored," Lejeune explained, "Once Albion is secured, the United Nations wishes to send aid to help rebuild and ease the suffering of the people there."

The truth was the U.N. wanted to make sure the United States and Canada would uphold their obligations and avoid any atrocities against the locals by the Tristainians or Germanian forces.

And keep them in check from a monopoly on the other world.

"A noble goal," Henrietta praised.

"Yes indeed," Albert added, "That is why you are here tonight then?"

Lejeune nodded.

"Yes, we just want to be aware of your plans so we can make own own accordingly."

The door swung open once more, this time revealing a large group entering: the ambassadors and their nation's military commanders.

"Greeting everyone," Ambassador Ambroise as he and General Carignan reached their seats with Ambassador Fitzgerald doing the same with Colonel Hamilton.

"Everyone is here." Henrietta noted. The Emperor and his entourage had already started feasting upon the food in front of them. "We should begin our discussions then. The Royal Army is rebuilding, but we should have 10,000 soldiers ready to march on Albion in 3 months time." Henrietta assured.

"Excellent!" The Germanian Emperor boomed. "I amassed an army of 30,000 men and horses before coming here. And how many of the outworlders mighty soldiers will be joining us?" He directed the question at them.

"I'm afraid that our leaders are still deciding how many to send." Colonel Hamilton spoke while Envoy Lejeune listened intently. "We cannot make any definitive commitments yet."

"A small amount would suffice for their contribution." Louise's mother spoke up. "1 of theirs is easily worth 100 Germanian soldiers." No one from Earth looked too pleased at her compliment while Emperor Albert seemed a mix of skeptical and intrigued.

"Quite." Henrietta agreed. "So do not hold it against them if their contribution is small."

"We also have many commitments on Earth right now that we need to fulfill," Ambroise added, "So we may be limited in what we may offer."

"We do have over a dozen aerial units here in Tristain to help." Carignan stated, "We can provide air support and help with logistics."

"That's the moving of men and supplies." du Poitier explained to the curious Germanians, "They are quite adept at that. It's a key part of their efficiency."

"We are." Carignan confirmed.

"Yes, I heard of how an army of thousands arrived in Tristain in one night." The Emperor's voice was a little more guarded. "An amazing feat of arms."

"And I assume there will be no objection to all offensive operations being determined by General du Poitier?" Henrietta asked.

"Margrave Hadenburg," Albert gestured to an older man in extravagant black military dress, "Do you have any objections to this?"

"With the understanding all Germanian troops will still be led by Germanian officers, no. Although I insist on the right to appoint the chief of staff for our command council. We are sending more men."

Henrietta and du Poitier shared a look, and found no disagreement in either's gaze. "That is a fair term." Henrietta conceded.

"Then I would like to nominate Count Wimpffen as Chief of Staff. He has long served Germania's armies as a skilled administrator and leader and I have no doubt that his talents will be able to ensure victory in our invasion of Albion." Hadenburg said as he pointed at another, more simply dressed man.

"Does the United States or Canada have any objections to these arrangements?" Henrietta turned to her allies.

"We will entrust overall strategic decisions to you," Ambroise said before General Carignan spoke up.

"Our forces will be operating in support of the offensive, not leading it. We will need to be kept informed by Tristainian and Germanian commanders of the developments on the front. That is all we require."

The Germanians were looking interested in the prospect of indirectly commanding soldiers from Earth. But Henrietta and du Poitier knew better. The soldiers of the United States and Canada would more or less be working on their own accord, and that was fine. Du Poitier couldn't even fathom how to command forces like that anyway.

"Now that the chain of command is established, we must discuss transport." Hadenburg tried to steer the conversation.

The talks were suddenly interrupted as the door opened, revealing a Musketeer who bowed when she reached the table. She seemed winded.

"Your Majesty! King Joseph of Gallia is at the Palace's gates. He wishes to meet with you concerning Albion!"

Everyone's eyes widened in surprise. The timing couldn't be a coincidence. How did the Gallian king know of the meeting? What was he doing here? How did he get here?

"I didn't know Gallia was invited to these talks!" Emperor Albert sounded outraged.

"He was not." Tristain's Queen firmly assured. "I think he is here by his own will and power."

Henrietta's face was deep in thought as she mulled over the news. King Joseph was never truly welcome in any court, always unnerving his hosts by his mannerisms. She could easily throw him out of Tristain; He had entered her realm without permission, somehow. She had a legitimate reason to do it. But the presence of the Inquisitor made a little harder.

"Perhaps we should let him speak," the Romalian said curiously, "It has been quite sometime since the leaders of two Blessed Realms spoke to one another."

"Surely you will not let him participate in our meetings!"

"I will let him speak first. It is against Tristain's customs to throw out another ruler that comes to her court." Henrietta firmly addressed Albert, "Please bring him here." She ordered the messenger.

The Musketeer quickly left the now silent room. The entire room waited with silent held breath for a few minutes without continuing its conversation before the doors opened and in stepped a large man in regal clothing that the Halkegenians all recognized: Joseph de Gallia. A man over 6 feet tall with a head of blue hair and a beard to match. He did not give out an air of raw strength like the Germanian Emperor. His aura was more unsettling. He was a man you just looked at and immediately sensed something was amiss in the universe. Behind him were two guards.

Devers, Hamilton, Carignan, and Duchess Vallière were the only ones who noticed it, but everyone's guards along the walls started to move. Germania's knights and Tristain's musketeers first, then the Earth guards. All of them were subtly stepping closer to the people they were meant to guard.

"King Joseph." Henrietta stood from her seat. "You have surprised us with your presence." She said politely, trying to maintain her station. It was a hard effort. This had done more than surprised her; it made her uneasy. His presence had made her uneasy the first and until now only time she'd had him in her court, but now seemed somehow worse. Like there was a charge in the air and this man was the unwanted ignition. She still wondered how he'd entered her lands at all.

"Does Tristain allow Gallian airships free entry into their skies?" Emperor Albert coldly asked. Devers, Hamilton, and du Poitier glanced at each other.

"I walked." Joseph spoke for the first time. Walked? The King of Gallia had just walked up to the Tristain Royal Palace? The man in question walked up to the table, his heavy footsteps echoing on the floor. He and his guards passed the Germanian Emperor without an acknowledgment as he continued to the furthest end of the table where Henrietta was sitting in an almost excruciating slow stride.

When he reached Henrietta, the Gallian king suddenly stopped. He picked her hand up and bowed, a gentlemanly gesture that none-the-less came off as unsettling. No one noticed his eyes linger on the Ring of Wind for a brief moment. He repeated the gesture with the Archduchess and, correctly assuming they were important to Henrietta's court, Louise and her mother. Both Duchesses bared it with the proper stoicism. Louise had a shake of nerves she barely stifled. She swore he lingered on her hand longer than was necessary.

The effort to appear polite but ended up only being unnerving over, Joseph walked back and took a seat on the one unoccupied side of the table, between Henrietta and Albert and directly opposite the party from Earth.

"Has Gallia come to join plans to bring Albion back to the light?" Inquisitor Bagdolio asked. The Gallian king made only a subtle nod of his head, about the most emotionless confirmation one could give. "All the faithful Blessed Realms together to restore the Founder's might." The old man clapped his hands together in the first positive emotion anyone had ever seen from him. "This is wonderful news! The Pope will be grateful, King Joseph." Another slight nod from the "Mad King".

Henrietta stayed stoic, as did her party and even the Germanian nobles. But Emperor Albert's face was clearly twisted in disgust.

"Greetings, King Joseph," the Germanian ruler said with barely hidden disdain when it was clear the other head of state wasn't going to acknowledge him, "I am surprised that you are present here."

"As am I. I did not expect Germania to involve itself in the affairs of the Blessed Realms," Joseph replied, "Has your court gone peaceful your Imperial Majesty?"

"Peaceful enough… unlike the rumours I have heard about the Gallian court. These outworlders are savvy traders." He motioned to them. "It's a shame your own people have shunned them."

"The Gallian people made a choice, and the nations of Earth respect that choice." Ambassador Ambroise interjected. Joseph shrugged, as if to say "Eh."

"The Gallian people are foolish to have shunned you, Ambassador," Emperor Albert continued, "But Germania is always wisely seeking prosperity for the continent and its people, unlike certain others." He stared at Joseph.

Seeing what was obviously unfolding in front of their eyes, a back and forth between rival nations, the Earth party tried to get things back on track. "I believe we were just discussing preliminary ideas on bringing stability to Albion." Devers broke the ice. "King Joseph, you are helping us in this endeavor and want a piece, I assume?" The last thing anyone from Earth wanted was this mess getting anymore fucked, but it looked like it was determined to do so.

"Perhaps, perhaps not. It will depend on what Albion has to offer for Gallia. I heard of this meeting and decided to attend." And where had he heard it, everyone else at the table wondered.

"Not much." Albert said quickly, wanting to placate his rival and hopefully get him out of here. "Tristain, us, the outworlders, and the Church are already involved. We have enough resources to secure and rebuild Albion without Gallian involvement-."

"Any help a _Blessed Realm_ could provide would be welcomed, no matter how small." The Inquisitor said, his tone not so friendly now as he glared at Albert and Joseph. "Petty squabbles undermine the Founder's dreams of unity. None of this is for the profit of any Kingdom." He warned.

Devers noted everything that was said between the two rulers. The two biggest kingdoms on the continent, no doubt vying for power. If they turned this invasion into part of that, it was just going to be trouble for all.

"Of course." Henrietta spoke, feeling the need to bring control over the meeting in her Palace. "If all of us working together resolves the situation with Albion sooner, then we should aspire to put our differences aside. The people of Albion suffer each day because of the lack of authority and order in their lands. Hunger, war and disease ravage them freely while we squabble pettily in our palaces." Emperor Albert looked a little grim at her description while Joseph looked unperturbed.

"Her Majesty is right gentlemen," Devers added, "So lets start this conversation over." He addressed the Gallian king directly. "Tristain has already pledged 10,000 troops to this endeavor, and Germania 30,000. What can Gallia offer?" Joseph had taken a glass of wine while the agent was talking, watching it swirl in the glass before answering.

"We can match 30,000." Joseph declared dispassionately. Albert's eyes narrowed upon hearing this.

"You do not need to brag about an army that is not there."

Joseph raised an eyebrow.

"How many of your armies are busy maintaining peace between the Germanian houses? Would 30,000 men leaving Germania leave your throne insecure Emperor Albert?"

"And how many of your generals are loyal to you and not to their own interests?" the Emperor countered, "Can you trust them to follow your will? How do we know one won't try and assume kingship of Albion by themselves?"

"The same could be said for yours." While the Emperor was getting worked up, Joseph remained stoic.

"Please cease immediately!" the Inquisitor suddenly ordered, "This is getting nowhere!"

"Let me restate that any country wishing to take part in the invasion will need _my_ permission to enter our lands and ports in the first place." Henrietta asserted herself, much to the Inquisitor's annoyance. "And that ultimately supreme command will rest with a commander appointed by me."

The people from Earth were still keeping their mouths shut. Devers was noting everything that was said by both Joseph and Albert. This was their first direct look at the ruler of Gallia, after all. No more second hand talk.

The blue haired man in question suddenly rose from his seat, and it was telling how Emperor Albert and his guards immediately tensed up.

"Perhaps I should not involve my kingdom in this venture after all," Joseph suddenly said as he turned away, "My borders are not as safe as I think they are."

"Is this a threat?" Albert retorted as he icily stared at the Gallian.

"Merely a statement. Gallia's border lords have been insisting that we better fortify our northern borders." There were only two countries on Gallia's northern border: Tristain, and Germania.

"That is disappointing." Henrietta said, though she did not feel it was a real tragedy like the Inquisitor clearly did. Actually, it was hard to tell if the Inquisitor was saddened by the fact that Gallia was pulling out or angry at the Germanian ruler for antagonizing them into doing so. "We are sorry you travelled all this way for such a short exchange." King Joseph gave a small acknowledgement of her condolences and left as sudden as he'd arrived, leaving the room shaken up.

"Pardon me," Albert said as he stood up, "But I must take leave for a short moment. Queen Henrietta, I will return shortly. Johan, I will require your aid." He turned to one of his people.

"Yes, your Imperial Majesty," the aged chamberlain replied as he stood and followed his ruler. The rest of the Germanian nobles rose from their seats as well. Serious expressions marked their features as they followed their Emperor out of the room.

"Those impudent fools!" Bagdolio finally growled after a moment, "We could have had the Blessed Realms united behind a common cause!"

"It is… unfortunate that this has happened," Henrietta stated, "But Tristain will remain steadfast in its decision to pacify Albion and return its people to the ways of the Founder."

She hoped it would calm down the inquisitor.

"Inquisitor, if I may speak?" Ambassador Ambroise said. The inquisitor nodded.

"Perhaps this is for the better," the Canadian said, " King Joseph seems to be rather… whimsical and fickle as a leader. It might inhibit our collective goal to bring peace to Albion."

"You speak of one of the direct descendents of Brimir!" The Inquisitor reminded hauntingly him. "But...Gallia has not always been… cooperative with the Papacy. It may be for the best."

Devers took a sudden interest in Badoglio's words.

"What do you mean?"the agent quickly asked. Badoglio's eyes suddenly widened as he realized what he said.

"It is of no importance," the Inquisitor recovered quickly but Devers had a raised eyebrow. The experienced agent knew that the Romalian would not say anything about this subject.

"I see. I hope that this does not compromise our efforts in Albion then," Devers replied coolly.

"I presume that his Imperial Majesty has gone and issued orders for his borders with Gallia to be reinforced," Carignan guessed, "Will that impact the number of forces that Germania will be sending?" No one mentioned the Gallia-Tristain border, but that was a matter they'd discuss in private.

"The Germanian and Gallian armies are the largest in Halkegenia." Henrietta informed them. "I doubt 30,000 will prevent Germania's ability to defend its borders. I sincerely hope that a war isn't brewing though." A war between those two powers would mean a reduction of trade and a flood of refugees.

"That would be most unfortunate." The Inquisitor said gravely, something everyone else in the room echoed. This was a development that would have to get back to the planning rooms on Earth.

When the Emperor returned, he tried to appear untroubled but it showed in his tense steps. "So what were we discussing before that rude interruption?" He sat back down with his accompanying nobles. "Troops, that's it!" He recalled. "Yes, I've raised 30,000 men and horses for this invasion, as well as over two dozen ships." That was only a fraction of the Germanian Navy, but they had other commitments, especially now.

"Tristain's Navy will be involved in moving our own troops." Henrietta asserted her independence without revealing the pitiful trio of ships their 'Navy' was. "We share a base with America and Canada in the region of Clement-sur-Mer."

"A good contribution given the recent events," the Emperor remarked off-handedly, "I hope that they have been a good crucible for your armies, your Majesty."

"I believe that our troops have learnt much from our recent battles," Henrietta coolly replied before turning to Earth's representatives, "While I understand you will need time to decide on sending troops, I trust there will be no objections to our Navy operating out of the base?"

"Not at all," Fitzgerald replied while Ambroise nodded, "This base is a joint venture between our nations after all."

"Thank you," Henrietta replied, before addressing the Emperor. "And all of Tristain's ports will be open to the Germanian Navy to use."

"Will Germania be allowed to make use of this facility as well for the Invasion of Albion?" Albert asked.

"Strictly as a port of call." Hamilton explained. "A place to take up water and food or to reapply Wind Stones. There should be closer and more convenient areas for troops to embark." Albert was deep in thought for a moment before he spoke again.

"Would it be possible for me to meet with your leaders and discuss this with them?" He asked suddenly.

"Not without weeks of preparation. Given what happened last time, I'm sure you can understand why our leaders would be hesitant to visit Halkegenia again."

"I understand," Albert replied, "Would it then possible for me to visit your capitals and discuss possible arrangements?"

"That is something that I must discuss with my superiors," Fitzgerald answered, "But they will be open to such propositions, I believe. As it stands, any proposition or planning can be conveyed through us."

"So it could." The Emperor didn't seem very pleased. What exactly had he wanted to discuss? The man picked up a drum stick and took a bite of it, giving Henrietta and opening to speak.

"We should discuss what will become of Londinium and Albion's government after the invasion is complete." She proposed.

"That is a discussion for when the invasion is complete, surely?" Emperor Albert questioned. "We have not even decided how to partition up the lands." And on that subject, there was a shift in body language among his retinue.

"I believe this particular subject is one we should pre-plan." Henrietta's insistence was well founded. She'd made sure in her free time to look into that country-Germany-and the conflict it caused Trump and Trudeau had mentioned.

"Having a plan in place to quickly rebuild would prevent the mass suffering of the population." The UN Envoy suggested, and got agreement from the rest of the Earth party.

"I do not believe that an Albion government shall exist after we are done." The Emperor raised an eyebrow. "Unless you would endeavor to proclaim yourself Queen as per your father's birth right?"

"I hold no such intentions." Henrietta stated firmly.

"Then what do you suggest? That a puppet ruler be put in place?" The Emperor asked stiffly. It was apparent in their body language none of the Germanians were behind the idea. Henrietta picked up on it too.

"For one, I do not believe either nation should be able to claim ownership of any land within 10 leagues of Albion's easternmost coast, to ensure all countries will have equal ability to enter the country."

"And what does this have to do with Londinium?"

"I think, to ensure there will be no conflict after the invasion is over regarding travel in the White Country, there should be permanent routes and areas that are open to all countries. Londinium would be the largest. A place Tristain and Germania can always meet to discuss any issues concerning the occupation of Albion."

The Germanian delegation was silent for a moment before the Emperor spoke again.

"I believe that this… proposition is quite reasonable in spite of how unusual it is. What does Canada and the United States think of this?"

"We are all in support of this idea and applaud the Queen for her thoughtful proposal." The mutual agreement between all three parties of outworlders made the Germanians just the littlest bit suspicious.

"You do not have any claims over Albion's territory?" the Emperor asked, skepticism obvious in his voice.

"No, as we do not believe that our direct administration of Albionian territory would be well received by the local population nor does it interest our leadership right now," Ambassador Fitzgerald explained, "We are willing to offer assistance and advice on how to manage Albion once the invasion is concluded."

"The United Nations will however monitor the occupation and ensure that the people of Albion are properly treated by the occupation forces." Lejeune added sternly. "It should not be an issue that our people be allowed to enter occupied areas with food and medicine for the populations?"

"It is less responsibility for us." The Emperor shrugged.

"But who would rule over Londinium?" A Germanian noble asked.

"May we suggest a solution from our world?" Ambroise spoke up.

"You may Ambassador," Henrietta replied while Albert looked on curiously.

"We suggest that Londinium be a neutral territory, ruled by a separate party. It is as big as the Capital in either Tristain or Germania. Managing two cities of that size would surely be difficult."

"But who would rule it?" The noble asked again, more sharply this time.

"There are, perhaps, reasonable lords or nobles still alive in Albion that are merely waiting for a chance to rebuild their homeland."

"Or a few here in Tristain…!" Henrietta suddenly realized. That refugee ship that had arrived in Tristain some time ago.

"Excuse me Queen Henrietta?" Albert turned his attention to her.

"A few weeks ago, a ship arrived in Tristain, carrying refugees who were escaping the civil war," Henrietta explained, "Amongst these refugees were a few nobles who were responsible for paying the ship."

"But can we trust these people?"

"I believe that they are sincere in their desire. Even more, they are in debt to us for not striking them down as soon as they set foot in Tristain."

"As the Church decreed." The Inquisitor reminded them, clearly annoyed at a blatant admittance that Tristain hadn't punished them.

"Inquisitor Badoglio, I believe that the Church also encourages compassion to the innocent and vulnerable," Henrietta replied sharply as she glared at the man, "The people on that ship were sick, defeated and terrified for their lives. Brimir would never have tolerated if one of His descendants raised a hand against innocent women and children."

"Yet they have rejected His Light!"

Devers listened intently as the conversation continued. This was getting interesting.

"These people have been misled," Henrietta replied with conviction in her voice, "They were seduced by a man who exploited their grievances for his own gain. They are victims of their own mistakes and to punish them for that would be against my own faith in the Founder!"

"We approve of her Majesty's decision to aid the Albionian refugees," Lejeune piped up, cutting off the Inquisitor, "Such generosity and mercy is something that the U.N. would approve of. I am certain that the United States and Canada approve of this as well."

"Prime Minister Trudeau was very happy to hear of her Majesty's clemency towards the refugees," Ambroise stated simply.

"The President was happy to hear about this act of generosity," Fitzgerald added.

"I will be writing to Pope to inform him of this." The Inquisitor said ominously, glaring at everyone in attendance.

"I'm certain he will agree with us," The UN delegate assumed before Emperor Albert III cleared his throat as he looked at Henrietta.

"Your Majesty impresses me with her generosity and kindness. I must confess that such a decision would have been… difficult for me to take yet her lack of hesitation in aiding in these people is admirable," the Germanian Emperor praised.

"Must I remind you, your Imperial Majesty, that this is a matter involving the Blessed Realms?" Badoglio threw a dirty look at Albert. The Emperor didn't notice it; he was too busy starting at Henrietta. There was definitely something different about the small woman. Intriguing, he might even say.

"Of course, of course." He said without full attention. "If keeping Londinium and the key roads throughout the island neutral is necessary for this arrangement, so be it. But that does leave the rest of the island to be divided up."

"I believe that will be a matter settled by our armies." Henrietta said. The Emperor grinned, finally hearing something more his style after a long civilized talk.

"So be it." He looked from the Queen to the Earth delegation. "In three months, we shall see!"

* * *

It was no surprise that Cromwell's trial would be a spectacle. For all the care of making sure it was a legitimate way to call out all his misdeeds, they could not keep it was turning into a figurative circus. The cameras were already recording everything as the former Albion leader was led into the room with his legs and arms shackled. His pale, gaunt face had gotten more wrinkled while the circles under his eyes had gotten darker. He did his best to hide the nervous tremors at the jeering crowd. Three judges sat at their respective seats. Each had a cold, aloof expression on their faces. Sitting next to Cromwell was a greying man in a sharp suit. His lawyer had an inscrutable look as he looked over various papers and files. Sharply dressed MP's kept a close eye on everything.

Procedures began with every member of the trial identifying themselves one by one. Cromwell barely managed to stutter out his name. Once that was done, the historical moment began. The judges ordered the prosecutors to list the accusations and evidence against the former Albion warlord. The first to start was the Tristainian one.

"Oliver Cromwell's crimes against Tristain and the Tristainian people are the following: Mass murder, attempted usurpation, terrorism, espionnage, collusion and warmongering."

After he was done, the man sat down and a Canadian prosecutor stood up. Cromwell wanted to speak up in protest but his lawyer quickly got his attention. With a shake of his head and glare, the lawyer convinced the man to keep his mouth shut.

"Oliver Cromwell's crimes against Canada and the Canadian people: Terrorism, espionage and warmongering."

He was soon followed by the American prosecutor who recited exactly the same accusations.

Cromwell was asked if he accepted or denied the accusations made against him. "I have only done what I was ordered to by Brimir." Raucous noise broke out in the crowd behind him, but he didn't turn to face it. This indifference would carry on throughout most of the day.

* * *

Earth followed this trial with great interest. Social media said it was almost like seeing Hitler getting tried for his crimes. They were looking at a man so crazy as to try and kill the most powerful man in the world and a close second. A man that had started a holy war simply because he disagreed with his church's teachings. But, as people watched and bared through the boring parts, it was more than that. The evidence was clear: this man was a violent dictator, cruel, heartless, and fanatical. He remained calm and composed despite the grave accusations and evidence against him. No remorse could be seen on his face. He refuted nothing. He didn't even level a single accusation of slander or falsification.

His attitude was not the only thing that irked anyone watching the trial. It was the horrors that his armies and followers had committed in Tristain and Albion in the name of his teachings concerning Brimirism. The destruction of Tarbes and the massacre of entire populations in Albion that defied him gave the viewers a sense of disgust and a chill down their spines. The images of the Coronation attack caused blood to boil in many Americans, British and Canadians as they saw the carnage and what had almost happened to their leaders.

Needless to say, few had any sympathy for Cromwell on Earth.

Cromwell stayed stoic for the first session which lasted three hours before a recess was called for everyone to recuperate. Silent through all every bit of proof the outworlders had captured with their blasphemous objects and even when they showed what he thought were magical recordings, letters, or journals of Albion spies or nobles that had been captured over the course of the last year.

Cromwell stayed silent even to his lawyer during the recess.

But when the court reconvened to show the rest of the evidence, something seemed to break him. A picture of the Republican Palace, back before they'd destroyed it, in Londinium suddenly poked right through his indifference. He stood up from his seat, waving his shackled arms above his head.

"This is an absolute farce!" he shouted, irritation very obvious in his voice, "You do not have the authority to try me!"

"M. Cromwell! Please sit down and calm yourself!" his lawyer firmly ordered while one of the judges banged his gavel.

"Order! Order!"

"Do you know who I am?!" he yelled at the judges and courtroom "I am not a mere criminal! I am Lord-Protector Oliver Cromwell! The man who broke the Tudors' hold over Albion! It's rightful ruler! I am a Saint! The man who will unite all of Halkeginia and take back what is rightfully ours from the accursed Elves!"

"M. Cromwell, I am trying to help you!" the exasperated lawyer hissed, trying to calm down the renegade priest.

"You are all nothing! Inconsequential!" Cromwell roared while the gavel resounded in the room followed by a judge's call to order and the sound of thumping boots. A call that was ignored.

"You have not defeated me! For I have brought down a Blessed Realm!" An MP put hands on his shoulders and tried to push him back in the chair. " Nothing you will ever do to me will-"

His tirade was suddenly interrupted as his face paled. He clutched his chest and cried out in pain. Cromwell had spent the last few months of his life locked in a cell, and part of that comatose being fed the nutrients he needed to survive. Even were he not in his 50s-practically ancient for a commoner in this world-he was still weak from the ordeal and the countless days he'd spent just sitting in his cell without saying anything hadn't helped. The stress from before the invasion was just another aggravating factor.

But even worse for him, his mind had decayed in the same space. It'd been decaying since before he was captured. He was delusional. He'd practically aged himself years by the mental gymnastics he'd put himself through trying to justify what had happened, what should happen, and how it should happen. And now suddenly he'd put himself into a rage.

Now all that stress was catching up to him.

* * *

"Are you _fucking kidding me_?!" Trombley exclaimed as he and his fellow Americans looked at the screen incredulously. His unit as well as the Canadian troops were watching the trial at the portal's camp. Cromwell had started to slouch in his chair, and now Musketeers and MPs were swarming around him. In the crowd behind him, nobles were jeering and shouting.

By the looks of it, he was having a heart attack, a stroke, or maybe an aneurysm even.

"Tabarnak! Someone do something fuck!"

"That SOB's gonna get away cause of a fucking _heart attack_?!"

"If he lives through it."

"Bitch ass is probably faking."

"Don't worry guys," a snarling Huynh said as he recomposed himself, "If we could get that fat fucker Goering cleaned up from morphine addiction and get him to Nuremberg in 1945, we should be able to get this fucking bastard in good enough shape for a trial." The lieutenant remembered the first and only time he'd seen the bastard in person- with a hand and bleeding everywhere. He'd come back from that.

"I hope so!" Trombley scoffed as they watched the scene cut out. The broadcast had probably been cut on Earth too. Something that should have been a triumph ruined, just like the coronation. Two broadcasts ruined.

"Camera's must be bad luck in this world." A soldier joked. That's all they could do, joke and fume.

* * *

"Let him die!" More than a few people shouted that as the security teams attempted to remove Cromwell to get medical treatment. The courtroom was in an uproar while MP's and Musketeers tried to get the audience calm and under control.

Henrietta and her mother watched the events unfurl before their eyes. Part of them wanted him to die now, but another part wanted them to see Cromwell being properly humiliated for what he did. Her allies had kept him alive despite losing a limb, a normally fatal injury, and they seemed to know what was wrong with him now. They could probably keep him alive still.

But she couldn't be happy at that. She couldn't even muster the energy and rise and reign in her people. She just watched the soldiers carry Cromwell out of the room. And for just a brief moment, she locked eyes with the heretical man. Her emotionless blue eyes meeting his old blue eyes wide with fear and disbelief at what was happening to him. Honest, mortal fear. Once he was gone, Henrietta calmly rose and left the room, going in an entirely different direction. She had a Kingdom to run, after all.

In spite of the incoming invasion, American and Canada thought things in Halkegenia were going well. Diplomacy with Romalia was proceeding very well. But new problems always found ways to crop up.

In the span of two days, Gallia had suddenly forced its way into things and the trial they'd set up to save face at home and in the international community had lasted only a day before falling apart. To say the American and Canadian heads of state were annoyed would be a severe understatement.

"At least he's stable now," Trump remarked dryly. His conference call was with Trudeau as well as Devers and Harper. This was an impromptu meeting. They'd already planned one in several weeks to discuss Albion, but these were developments they had to address now.

"M. President, M. Prime Minister, our medical personnel told us he might not wake up this time. They did their best but Cromwell's not exactly gonna be able to tried even if he recovers. Paralysis, mental degradation," he read off the possibilities, "This guy is going to spend the rest of his life in bed. Not even one of the water mages here could fix him even if they wanted to."

Both leaders groaned simultaneously.

"There's about a 90% chance he'll turn into a vegetable," Devers concluded as he heard sighing.

"The international community will be furious and blame us for this," Trudeau realized as he felt his headache intensify. He could imagine the accusations already about Canada and the US torturing Cromwell.

"Isn't our fault." Trump was quick to shift the blame. "The Queen was holding him and he wasn't in good shape to start with even if we kept an eye on them. We made sure that he wasn't tortured or murdered in his cell block. We can't be held responsible for him getting a heart attack."

"Mr. President, Prime Minister, Cromwell is a small fry and has been for a while now. We should be worrying more about Gallia." Devers tried to shift their attention. As far as the spy was concerned, Cromwell wasn't worth the energy anymore. His agents were already monitoring the reaction amongst the Tristainians. So far, most people were overjoyed that Cromwell was out cold. Only the Inquisitor seemed upset the man may die. Even the Queen hadn't asked whether or not he'd survive, although they kept her up to date on the matter. She was looking to other matters and he could honestly say he appreciated the Monarch for it.

"They're trying to mess with us." Trump said. "Why now? What did we do?"

"King Joseph is known for his unpredictable tendencies and is nicknamed the 'Mad King' by many of the nobles in Tristain and Germania." Harper reminded them, "According to our intel on him, his decisions are contradictory and nonsensical. We suspect he might have done for the sake of annoying everyone else. Or possible fear mongering. On the chance he's acting like a rational leader, it might be to intimidate Tristain and Germania to keep them from gaining more land and wealth since they're taking Albion. But as quickly as he pulled out of the negotiations, that last possibility seems unlikely."

"I remember that the Gallian royalty was unstable," Trudeau pointed out, "I believe that the Queen mentioned it. Apparently, there's constant internal strife within the main line of succession."

"She did, on the plane ride to the conference after the portal showed up." Harper confirmed. "Told Ambassador Ambroise that fratricide is common. It was in the briefing."

"So what else do we know about the King over there?" Trump asked, "Anyone else pulling the strings? Besides being insane, he's lazy, isn't he?"

"Operations over there are still low scale." Devers admitted. "We got a team in Lutece now, but they haven't gotten to the point of questioning people. So we only know what the other nations will tell us and only what our eyes in their Capital can see. All we know right now is the guy had a brother that died under mysterious circumstances and that's more or less common knowledge across Halkeginia. The King lets his nobles run their own areas without any real oversight. We _think_ he has a daughter, although we've heard nothing about a wife; he seems to rule alone. There's a teenager we've seen around the outside parts of the Palace with the same hair color dressed like royalty. We hate to admit this, but that king is an enigma to us."

"So we don't know if he's a real threat or not?" Trudeau asked, deadpanned, "What do we know about his nobles?"

"Power hungry like the ones we know in Tristain, although far less loyal," Devers reported, "But also paranoid as hell since their king could have them executed on a whim."

"They have the capacity to be a threat though." Harper reported. "Our agents in Gallia have seen some massive airships in the skies there, bigger than anything Tristain or Albion had. Brute firepower over agility seems to be their aerial strategy."

"I'm not worried about a giant hunk of wood." Trump said, "We've already taken out the Albion Navy. Gallia's will go the same way."

"Do you have any idea how he got into Tristain without anyone noticing him?" Trudeau then asked, "If he took the roads there, someone should have noticed no? Is there any possibility that he has agents in Tristain that helped him?"

"That's the thing, M. Prime Minister: He came by carriage but no one saw anything on the roads that stood out of the ordinary. He entered Tristain without forewarning as is custom, probably as another provocation. The Queen is upset about it; she's summoned some border lords to answer personally. We suspect that he might have traveled under disguise or bypassed the roads to get into Tristain without us seeing him. Maybe a guard didn't recognize him. There are merchants passing over with guards every day. Joseph came and left with only two guards, which is less than even the lowest merchants."

"And is at best a fifth of the number Queen Henrietta usually travels with and not even a tenth of the guard force the Emperor brought with him."

"Either that man is fearless or has very good guards," Trudeau remarked, "Especially considering his reputation as a king."

"He's insane," Trump scoffed, "Probably his twisted little mind makes think no one can touch him. Is he insane enough to attack Germania though? They are the most powerful country there, aren't they?"

"Militarily, they are similar." Harper confirmed, "Both have large armies and navies that are well trained and funded. We're still trying to get a grip on their full capabilities."

"Yes but we all know that central power in Germania is weaker then it is in Gallia." In Germania, the Emperor wasn't a blood position. It was bestowed, often on the most powerful and richest noble. They'd heard through the grapevine before even establishing diplomatic relations that the current Emperor had been one of a few dozen candidates. That power could always be opposed. A little shakier than Tristain, but stable enough that diplomacy seemed viable. "But Joseph's are just as unlikely to answer. It's a question if either nation could get enough support together for a major war."

"What are our interests that would be in danger in the event of a Germania-Gallia conflict?" Trudeau asked.

"A spillover and trade disruption. Depending on how the Church reacts, they may pressure Tristain into joining the war, and that would put everyone and everything in the crosshairs."

"On what side though?"

"Gallia's, most likely. This concept of 'Blessed Realms' is important to them."

"Against Germania, then?" Trudeau asked. Neither head of state liked that. Tristain was their principal ally in that world, obviously. The portal opened right into the country. They'd been nothing but gracious diplomatic hosts and trade partners. But relations with Germania had been warming up for a while, and Earth wasn't going to pass up that opportunity; Germania was an economic juggernaut. Plus, it wasn't as tied to the Church as Tristain currently was. That made them a possible ally, although conflict with the Church wasn't what they wanted. As far as society went, Germania's was marginally more 'free' than Tristain's. Less of a class system.

"So we have a lot to lose if those two get into a war. Am I right?" Trump summarized.

"War for any reason would be bad for us." Trudeau reminded.

"Indeed," Harper replied, "A war between those two would be worse than one against Albion."

"So let me get this straight." Trump sounded annoyed. "We put all that effort and money into opposing Albion to keep that world safe and stable to keep _OUR_ world safe, and now we have to do the exact same thing for Gallia?"

Trudeau showed the same resignation.

"It looks like it." Their intelligence agencies didn't try and sell them a lie.

"So be it." Trump was annoyed, but not enough to pull out. The American economy was doing amazing, and Tristain was a small part of it but a part nonetheless with a lot of potential. A little mechanization and they could be selling them a lot of the goods Americans normally got from China, like clothes. Besides, he knew good press when it saw it and this was some damn good press.

"What can we do to maintain our security without antagonizing the Gallian leadership or the Church?" Trudeau asked.

"And stay out of a war." Trump added sternly.

"For Tristain's direct safety? I think our armed forces are good deterrents. We shouldn't change anything on that front. A Gallia-Germania conflict is beyond our ability to influence at the moment."

Both heads of state looked a little annoyed. Relations with Germania were good, but it wasn't like any of Earth; the Emperor wouldn't tone it down just because the two asked. And Germania wasn't the problem anyway. Gallia was, a nation they had no contact with or influence in.

"We'll keep expanding our operations there and present options as soon as their viable."

"Let's agree to put the Gallia matter on hold right now. We'll discuss it at our next meeting on Halkegenia as well as Emperor Albert's desire to visit Earth. Give our intelligence communities and military leadership time to look at the situation." Trudeau suggested. They'd wanted to give that more attention, but for now it'd wait until they could fix it with a lot of other issues.

"Might as well." Trump agreed. Maybe by then, they'd have a better solution.

* * *

A carriage escorted by horsemen slowly came to a halt in the base near the portal. It bore the coat of arms of the House of Vallières. Cattleya looked out the window. The young woman rarely left her family's domains as it was always a strain on her poor health.

Now her and her parents were going into an Earth hospital for the first time. She had heard much from her little sister and her lover about their allies's prowess in many fields. Now, she hoped that they could grant her her greatest wish: a life unburdened by illness.

She and her parents exited their carriage She saw Louise and Saito nearby waiting with Éléonore. Her little sister could barely contain her happiness while the elder one was more reserved though Cattleya saw a slimmer of hope in Éléonore's eyes.

"Big sister!" Louise excitedly said as she hopped over and hugged the older girl.

"Little Louise, I am happy to see you."

"Cattleya." Éléonore greeted, "I hope that the trip has not been too taxing on you dear sister."

The second daughter shook her head.

"No, it wasn't tiring at all. How have your research gone Éléonore?"

"Very well though I have been helping Little Louise with her new lands. The last lord neglected them and it will take great efforts to make them prosperous once more."

"I hope it is not too difficult for you my dear Louise." Cattleya worried, "It must a difficult task for you."

Louise shook her head.

"No, Éléonore is helping me a lot."

The duke and duchess nodded in approval.

"Thank you for your hard work," the duke said.

"Louise learns quickly though father so it is not very difficult."

Cattleya beamed at hearing the good news when someone nearby cleared their throat. It was the doctor they had met with earlier.

"Good day to you all," she said, greeting the group, "Welcome to the US-CAN Joint Army Hospital."

"Thank you for your welcome," the duke replied respectfully as he bowed his head, "We look forward to seeing how this hospital functions, Doctor Sims."

"I hope that we won't disappoint you then."

Behind her was a large grey building that looked fairly recent that the group entered. As they did so, they could see how clean and bright it was. Doctors, nurses and clerks were moving about their daily tasks.

"What exactly are you going to do Doctor?" Cattleya asked, "I believed that you wanted to do more specialized testing on me but what do these tests consists of exactly?"

"We have many specialized tests in order to detect what might be causing your heart issues milady."

"Are these tests dangerous?" the duke suddenly spoke.

"I can assure that they are perfectly safe."

"Very well, how will we proceed?" Cattleya asked.

"We will conduct various tests that will confirm the nature of your illness before proceeding with the appropriate treatment." Doctor Sims explained before glancing at the large group before her, "It is not necessary for all of you to be present here. We generally encourage parents to remain present with our patients."

"Eum Louise?" Saito spoke up.

"Yes?"

"I don't think we need to be here for the tests. They're going to be boring to watch."

"But Saito!" Louise whined, "I want to be here for my sister!"

"He is right," her mother said, "Perhaps you would enjoy visiting the Academy. No doubt that the von Zerbst's daughter would be… envious of your new lands and titles."

"But mother…" Louise's mother glared at her.

"I'm afraid that he's right. I also do not require having many people around my patients while we are examining them. There's not necessarily room from all of you."

"But what about Éléonore? Why can she stay here?" Louise whined.

"Because I am here on behalf of the Oriz Academy. They wish to have more information on our allies' medical sciences." The Tristain Academy of Magic wasn't the only educational institution in the land, obviously. Just the biggest. The Oriz Academy was more specialized in research, with many of its researchers warming to Earth's sciences. It was a slow process but it was there.

"B-but you're not even specialized in Water Magic!" Louise argued before being met by a withering glare from her oldest sister.

"I am merely here to record for the Academy."

"Louise, please do not argue anymore," her mother ordered sternly.

"Do not fret my Little Louise," Cattleya reassured, "I'll be able to spend time with you after the examinations."

Louise seemed satisfied with the answer.

"Please, make her healthy again!" Louise bowed at the doctor who smiled back at her, "I'll wait for you in my quarters!" She told her sister. Cattleya smiled, told Louise to have fun, and disappeared with her parents and the doctor into the concrete building.

* * *

After that, Saito and Louise had drifted a short distance away to the Academy to check up on where they'd first met all their friends. As it turned out, classes were cancelled that day for a staff meeting, so everyone was out and about They hadn't been here since before the invasion happened, and only by word of mouth did they hear about the hostage crisis. They were met with surprised looks and whispering when they arrived, unaware that a lot of rumors had surrounded their disappearance.

"Now there are two faces I didn't think I'd see again."

"Guiche!" Saito hadn't recognized the blond playboy at first glance; he wasn't wearing a school uniform anymore. His youthful face looked different, far more mature than the Japanese boy remembered. It might have been a visual illusion from the military uniform he was wearing.

"I command the new order of knights here at the Academy." Guiche explained when asked. "We're tasked with keeping the students safe from any more ilk that might threaten us."

"Yeah, I heard about that." Saito nodded. The news had trickled throughout the Kingdom, sparking fear of Albion reprisals. "You're doing a great thing." The other boy nodded, pleased.

"But since you're here, allow me to extend the question to you two." Guiche said. "Your disappearance after the invasion has aroused a great many rumors. And now you're returning to the Academy?"

"We're not staying." Saito clarified as they began drifting around the Academy. "We just wanted to see some old friends again. Like you man."

"Thank you Saito. I hope that you and Louise have been able to make the most of those lands. And I must say, congratulations on your title. I would have never imagined it when we first met."

"Thanks. Congratulations for yours too."

"The Vallières are slowly putting order into our new domains," Louise explained, "It is a lot of work. Have your efforts with the Knights of Undine gone well?"

Guiche smiled proudly and nodded.

"Yes, the knights and I have sparring whenever we have free time. Besides me, all of us still have our studies. There is still much work to do before we can serve our kingdom in battle but I am quite confident that we will be able to distinguish ourselves soon."

Something about this line rubbed Saito the wrong way. He remembered Guiche being badly shaken by _Blackhawk Down,_ but now, it seemed that the young noble was raring for another battle.

"What do you mean?" Saito asked, already guessing the answer.

"Many decided to join the Knights in order to ready themselves for their future in the armies," Guiche explained, "We spar regularly to keep ourselves ready and trained."

"Ah." was all Saito could say.

"So are you going to take part in the invasion of Albion?" Louise asked, "Her Majesty is building up the Royal Army for that."

Guiche shook his head.

"I do not know. Her Majesty has not told me anything concerning Albion and our Order," he replied. "At present, we are here to guard the Academy."

"I hope you don't get sent there," Saito said.

"But why? It is our duty to serve our Realm," Guiche replied, slightly puzzled, "We also need to act since the people of Albion are suffering right now."

"I don't want to see anyone else die in a war," Saito explained his point, "You've already gone through one war."

"Saito," Louise hissed, "It is our duty as nobles to answer the call to arms."

"Louise is correct. As long as Tristain requires it, we shall serve her."

"B-but there must be other ways to serve your Kingdom," Saito stammered.

"Yes, there might be but this is what I chose," Guiche stated firmly, "There are other people that can do other things for Tristain but the Knights of Undine shall be one of its swords."

Saito's mind flashed back to recent events. His friend and girlfriend were dead set on their mindset. It made think about his conversation with Devers. This world really was like old Europe in its mentality. Saito looked around and saw more boys wearing battle armour.

This wasn't what he'd expected at all when America and Canada showed up here. He thought this place and the people would seem more...modern? Prosperous. Stuff like that. Devers had told him not to expect every fantasy.

They didn't let that discouraging encounter chase them away. They stayed at the Academy for a little while longer. Some faces they didn't recognize, others they only knew in passing. Everyone seemed to recognize them though, and many that Saito couldn't even name came up to congratulate them for the rewards they'd received from the Queen. So many people who'd looked down on him suddenly treating him as an equal unnerved the Japanese boy. Guiche stayed with them, equal parts serving as a guide and keeping the more curious away.

"Saito! It has been a long time since I've seen you!" a familiar voice exclaimed, causing both Saito and Louise to turn towards the source. It was none other than Kirche and Tabitha. The Germanian was wearing a rather flattering outfit, no doubt bought from the trading outpost while the Wind Mage was holding a book with a familiar title.

Louise's eyes narrowed as she saw her old rival again before she puffed out her chest.

"Kirche."

"Ahh Louise. I'm very happy that you got those lands from the Crown," Kirche said happily, "Perhaps your family will be able to match mine's wealth finally."

"Of course, I will!" Louise boasted proudly.

"Has your family finally started trading with the Americans or Canadians like my Father and Mother did?" Kirche smugly remarked as she noticed Louise's eyes widening slightly, "You have no idea how these people have innovated in so many fields. It's impressive. We're richer than ever."

Louise stammered and stumbled over her words, trying to figure out how to answer to her rival.

"My parents will soon begin talking with them!" the pinkette exclaimed as she puffed out her chest, "We-we just wanted to be sure that they could give us something we want!"

Kirche simply smiled.

"Hey Tabitha, what's that book you got there?" Saito asked, trying to distract everyone from an imminent squabble between the two rivals.

"Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone," the blue haired girl replied simply, "It's good."

"I saw the movie when I was younger," Saito explained, "It was a good movie but I never read the books that came before."

"Movie?"

"Yeah, on Earth they make books that are popular into movies a lot."

"Remember that movie we watched Tabitha?" Kirche pointed out, "They said it was a book about a real battle."

The blue haired girl nodded.

"So how have you guys been since those terrorists took over the school?" Saito asked. They looked alright, but he still wanted to ask.

"Oh, we're fine." Kirche insisted. "But my parents were absolutely furious at the transgression. They're bringing our finest troops for the invasion. We're going to get some nice new lands over there."

The answer didn't reassure Saito as he glanced over at Louise whose eyes narrowed.

"My family will be going too!" She said, like it was a bragging contest. "Me and my mother will...uh…" Louise stopped herself when she realized she was about to reveal a state secret but not fast enough to avoid looking stupid.

"What were you saying… _Zero_?"

Louise's eye twitched.

"Noth-nothing," she answered through clenched teeth, her face bright red.

 _And they seemed to get along during the invasion so well._ Saito thought wearily. He noticed that Tabitha had remained silent all along.

"What about you Tabitha?" Saito asked.

"Gallian. Not my concern," she answered nonchalantly as she flipped another page in her book.

"Oh. Right." Saito had forgotten the girl was from the southern nation. "Well, that's good too."

"Lunch is soon. Perhaps we could discuss some more over good food?" Guiche suggested, "Malicorne will most certainly be waiting for us."

"Oh, certainly. You two must try the food. It's improved greatly since the war ended!" Kirche confirmed.

The group made their way to the dining hall and Guiche guided them to one particular table that stuck out because everyone sitting at it was wearing some sort of armor, or anything else that denoted them as more than a student. What Saito noticed was they made up about a fourth of the whole student body.

"There aren't as many people here, are there?" Saito asked. He had a hunch why.

"Yes," Guiche answered as he waved to Malicorne. "Many of the foreign students left. I think Tabitha and Kirche might be the only ones still here."

"Many of the Germanian students left a few days ago." Another knight spoke up.

"All the boys did leave." Kirche sounded wistful. "But they promised to shower me with gifts and treasures when they return from war."

"But why did they choose to go home?" Saito asked, almost fearing the answer.

"Some of their parents were appalled at the security failure while others were recalled because of the invasion." Guiche sounded confused. "Why else?"

"Ah...nothing." Saito brushed it off.

"Will we see you two in Albion?" Guiche asked.

"We'll be there!" Louise immediately assured. "My family has an important job. Much more important than leading troops." She glanced at Kirche, who just responded with a smirk.

"I look forward to seeing what you can possibly do that is more important than leading warriors into battle?"

"Come now Kirche, Saito and Louise are our guests here at the Academy." Guiche was uncharacteristically charismatic and leading. "We shall treat them as such." Saito was almost convinced the blond flop he'd dueled when he first arrived and the boy sitting next to him were two different people. The Germanian paused for a moment.

"Perhaps you are right. I'll let our family's performances on the battlefield prove speak for itself."

The answer seemed to satisfy Guiche. "Let's eat!" He insisted. They all dug in and for a little while, things seemed normal again. The time before the war. Even the time before the portal opened, although Saito had only been allowed to sit at the table for a few days before that once Louise warmed up to him. As the meal started to wrap up, Guiche put a hand on Saito's shoulder.

"As one noble in Queen Henrietta's service to another, I have a request to make while you are here."

"Uh...yeah?" Saito answered, bewildered by the address.

"With your unique circumstances, perhaps you may know of military instructors from Canada or the United States of America that can help the Knights of Undine further hone their skills in battle?"

"What?!" the Tokyo teenager almost spat out his drink.

"I was asking if you could help me and my knights further hone our skills by helping us find instructors from Earth. That is your role in the Kingdom, isn't it? Establishing connections between our world and Earth. If not, I apologize."

"No, that's right. But I don't really deal with the military stuff." Saito explained, "I could help you if you asked me about how to make your lands prosper. I met with some people about it."

"My family has already done that. Unfortunate, but we will manage."

Saito remembered Devers's words and didn't like how things were turning out. He hoped that Guiche and his knights would be at the Academy for the duration of the war.

They enjoyed the hospitality of the students for another hour or two before Louise started getting fretful and insisting they return to the portal checkpoint. Saito told her they probably weren't done, but she wouldn't hear it.

* * *

After a few moments of walking, the pair arrived at the hospital's gates and entered the reception room. Saito walked to the counter with Louise.

"Excuse me but is Lady Cattleya's appointment done yet?" he asked the uniformed receptionist.

"Give me a few seconds," the employee said as she ran through her papers before shaking her head, "I'm afraid that they are still going through tests."

"Hey, come on." Saito put an arm on her shoulder. "Let's go visit some of the shops. We could go get a present for your sister?"

"Hmmph! I want to wait for her to come out," Louise pouted childishly, "She could be out anytime soon."

"I don't know. Tests can take a long time and I don't think she'd want us to bore ourselves to death here either," Saito pointed out, "And I think we can get her something nice."

"Fine," Louise relented, "Let's go see what we can get for her."

"What do you think she'd like?" Saito asked as they exited the building again.

Louise put a finger on her chin for a second.

"She loves her pets. Maybe a book about animals from your world?"

"We can always check out the bookstores then."

After an hour wandering around the shopping district, Louise and Saito returned to the hospital as the sun was slowly setting.

"Big sister!" Louise exclaimed as she ran over to Cattleya who was walking out of the building with her parents and older sister by her side. They all seemed relieved, as if a great weight was lifted off their shoulders.

"Hello Little Louise," she said as the two hugged each other.

"I got you a present!" Louise said as she handed her a book about wildlife on Earth, "What did the doctors say?"

"Your older sister suffers from having a weak heart according to them," her mother explained, "An easily treated condition on Earth apparently."

"What does that mean?"

"I think it means that her heart isn't strong enough naturally for her," Saito tried to explain, "So that's making her weak all the time."

"That is the essence of their explanation, Viscount," the Duke confirmed. Saito noticed the somewhat less condescending tone of his voice.

"So can they heal her heart?" Louise asked excitedly, "So she can live like a normal person?"

"Not exactly." Her sister smiled. "But they've given me medicine that will stop it from weakening me so much. I may finally be able to journey away from our home." On either side, her parents looked cautiously optimistic.

"That's wonderful!" Louise exclaimed happily, "Can you come with me to the Academy for a bit?"

"I would love to finally see it." Being homeschooled, Cattelya had never actually seen the Academy her family historically attended. She glanced at her parents. Both nodded.

"We shall await for your return at the trade post in 2 hours," Lady Vallière said, "This place has changed since we were last here. Your father and I want to see more of it.."

"Yes mother."

So they returned to the Academy for a second time that day, Louise excitedly pulling Cattelya and Éléonore acting as the reprimand in case Louise forget her sister still wasn't in absolute perfect health. Louise gave her the full tour, and introduced her to a lot of the friends her and Saito had made during their time there. Barring one comment from Kirche about Louise missing the same 'assets' of her second sister, it all went well. The entire Vallière family left that day feeling happier and more positive than they had for years.

Even Saito put aside his misgivings. For the time being.

* * *

With war on the horizon, everyone was taking inventory of their forces. Earth was no different. The civilian and military brass back home wanted full tallies of what they had to work with in the inevitable conflict. Even if direct conflict was still off the table, that included all combat capable forces..

At present, the number of total military personnel, support and combat, totaled just under 2,500, an effect of weeks of downsizing. 600 of those belonged to the 1st Cavalry Division; a battalion from the division was still camped out along the lake on Tristain's southern border. Canada had enquired, and as it was the US wasn't in a hurry to remove the forces that had arrived just when the Albion invasion was dealt with. It wasn't really an issue since neither the Queen or Montmorency's family objected, but some people wondered why all the vehicles just stayed locked up behind heavy metal gates.

Another 400 were from the 10th Mountain Division. But most of that was the Division's aerial assets; there was only one infantry company in Tristain currently. The American forces were definitely shifting away from direct combat.

And the last major component of 700 soldiers was from the 2nd Canadian Division; a mix of Regular and Reserve troops. Most were tasked with security or relief efforts. Their tanks had pulled back to CFB Gagetown for the time being. The American battalion had more than enough firepower to hold the line until they could be sent in.

The other 700 or so were a mix of either command & control, logistics, engineering, military police, Special Forces, or training teams. The combined contribution from both countries' air forces was nearly half of that.

As far as hardware went, they tallied up their total to 15 tanks, 40 IFVs, and 51 other vehicles. The number of rotor wings wings tallied up to two Apaches, two Lakotas, six Blackhawks (and two 'Pavehawks', which were the US Air Force's Search and Rescue variant), three Chinooks, and five Griffons. A pair of V-22s were slated to arrive eventually, but those were reserved for flights to and from Romalia; they were the only aircraft that could make the journey. A flight of four F-16s and an element of two CF-18's represented the technological trump card Earth had in the new world.

It was a modest force, capable of meeting any threat this world could throw at them easily. But for the future ahead? They weren't getting all those vehicles into Albion, that was certain. But they could be useful if Gallia stirred up trouble like some worried. And Albion? Well, you could win a war from the air on Earth. It was worth seeing if the same was true here.

Trump and his people had traveled to Ottawa to meet their Canadian counterparts to discuss something more solid. The Canadians had nearly backed out of it, only for Trudeau to insist on it going through.

The prime minister was currently facing allegations he was obstructing justice and was helping SNC-Lavalin, the largest engineering company in Canada, covering up its shady deals at home and in Gaddafi's Libya by pressuring the Minister of Justice to hide the case before shoveling her into another position. It was starting to make headlines in Canada and rumors already abounded in the press. With elections approaching in Fall 2019 and an ever-stronger opposition, Trudeau was being very careful in maintaining his popularity and good name. The events in Halkegenia could make or break it more than ever, so it only made sense to not delay.

The door to Rideau Hall's banquet hall swung open as Trump and his cabinet entered the regal room where Trudeau and his cabinet were waiting for him. Quick greetings were exchanged before both men sat down with their cabinets. Sajjan and Mattis flanked their respective leaders.

"As we both know," Trump said, "The Invasion of Albion is set to begin in a few months. There's also the matter of Gallia. We're here to solve all these problems today."

"Exactly," Trudeau replied as his aides handed out the latest intelligence reports, "What is the state of our forces?"

Sajjan and Mattis listed off the forces present in Halkegenia, starting with the garrisons present, assets available, and how far they could stretch with the current stockpiles of supplies. The situation was fairly advantageous, with the troops well dug-in and the supply network well established. They were still busy with reconstruction and security duties but other tasks could be assigned to them. They were discussing offensive and defensive options this meeting; Albion and Gallia were on the table in equal measure.

The Special Forces scouting missions had redoubled in Albion, many concentrating around Londinium as they spoke but without neglecting the rest of the country. The strongholds outside the capital area were the many castles that dotted the landscape, including some in key mountain passes, river junctions, ports and other strategic areas. They were paying close attention to those too. Many warlords were holing up in these fortifications, directing what limited forces they could field and staying safe from assassinations and other harm. Anywhere else was the Wild West. Bandit country. Law of the Jungle.

And their agencies had reports on Gallian troop movements, still erratic as ever. They would start marching towards their borders with Germania or Tristain before suddenly turning tail and head to the center of Gallia. It wasn't outright provocation but it left everyone uneasy. At least they'd gotten a better figure on the troop numbers, army compositions, military targets, and even some military leaders. Devers and Harper had pulled through on their promise to give more options.

"I was told on the flight here both our militaries have come up with a plan?" Trump motioned, and Mattis took over.

"The Combined Arms Battalion situated on the border is in place to head off any incursions. The unit leadership has been working with the local lord to ensure cooperation with all border forces. In the event of an invasion, it should be able to out maneuver and engage the enemy in delaying operations until we can muster more forces in theatre."

"We've put all Regular and Reserve units in Quebec, Ontario and the Maritimes on permanent alert. We can provide that reaction force.. Our main concern is the Gallian Navy," Sajjan stated. "They have different operational procedures. Tristain and Albion's Navy's focus on smaller ships acting in coordination. Gallia's works more in line with our naval procedures-a fleet formation with the largest ship at the center. They have multiple ships-of-the-line that act as that center. We have aircraft in theatre for interception now, but Gallia's air power is relatively massive."

"It is." Mattis confirmed. "But we've made preparations for that too."

"How many ships are we talking about?" Trump asked

"At least 100, possibly as high as 200 including at least a dozen ships of the line. Albion's Navy was large, but a majority of those weren't purpose built warship, just converted merchant vessels. All of these would be armed and well-kept."

"There is however one major weakness in the Gallian military," Mattis added, "The majority of the leaders are chosen by Joseph for their loyalty rather than their skill. The same as Albion's officer corps. We believe that many are not truly loyal to their king but are terrified of his madness."

"So is it safe to say any attack would crumble the moment we applied force?" Trudeau questioned hopefully.

"We don't know yet." Sajjan explained, "They could be more afraid of going back to their king empty handed than they are of our guns."

"Did we gather anymore information concerning Joseph himself?"

"He's been on the throne for little over a decade playing games like these. He may see them as games, but we do not. We will respond accordingly." Mattis swore. "I have no doubt our forces on the ground can hold them back and that the Canadian Armed Forces will respond quickly. But that air power should be our concern. Our only options to counter it are extreme."

Trump and Trudeau nodded in acknowledgement.

"Have we found out anything about Gallian spies? Any good leads?" Trump asked, "Or how the hell did that nutcase get into Tristain? Do we have to worry about that too?"

"Still no solid information on that but both military and civilian intelligence is looking into it." Sajjan stated, "Neither like the fact they were duped."

"The likelihood of Gallian spies is less likely than Albionian." Mattis added. "There's no religious or ethnic link to encourage it. Regardless, I propose we assist Tristain's border guards through aerial surveillance. Any of our helicopters can fly along their entire border on a single tank of gas."

"Get on that. We need to cover all our bases." Trump nodded. Trudeau nodded at his Defense Minister to do the same. "You've already taken care that our men on the border should have all the air defense they need, right?"

"We already have anti-air assets guarding all installations in the country and we already have plans to disable the Gallian navy in its ports should they attack us, pending approval by the American and Canadian government."

"So we have a counter to everything Gallia can throw at us, and we're making sure they don't have any tricks up their sleeves. Are we absolutely sure we have everything resolved?" Trump asked. "We don't need to look stupid again."

Everyone nodded in agreement. Both countries' militaries had been working overtime to resolve this since the possibility arose, and it had cut down most of the need for discussion between civilian leadership. They only needed the word 'go', and Trump and Trudeau gave it at this meeting. Whatever happened would happen now.

That left the trickier subject of Albion. Both militaries had come up with options, and now it was time to choose which, if any, the US and Canadian government would pursue.

"The Queen has fortunately secured agreement of a large neutral zone in eastern Albion as well as command of the invasion to Marshal du Poitier. He will be assisted by the Margrave of Handenburg who will be leading the Germanian forces and Count Wimpffen will serve as the chief of staff for the invasion. None of them should cause difficulties for us." Saijin explained as his proposition was passed for both leaders to see. "I'm proposing the establishment of a massive military hospital in Albion after the initial beachhead has been secured."

"We're letting the locals do that, right?" Trump questioned. "The beachhead?"

"They can make the beachhead themselves." Mattis assured. "We don't have to be involved in that."

"We would have med-evac capability across the entire island, ensuring we can support the local forces at every stage of the invasion." Saijin got back on topic. "And we won't need boots to touch down more than 5 miles away from the coasts. Most of the medical assets we'd need are already in Tristain" Both heads of state were nodding approvingly, "Our men should normally be safe from combat."

"It could end up being a UN base too." Trudeau pointed out with both Mattis and Sajjan nodding. "I think that is a good idea, and one we should have ready to go as soon as possible." He looked at Trump for agreement.

"Start setting it up." The man said simply. "But these people are going to try and demand we fight at the front too, I'm sure. What about that?"

"The main issue that the Tristainians and Germanians will face will be the castles. Most of them are held by warlords and used as strong points. Even if the defenders will be few and undertrained, it will still be enough when it comes to defending a structure like that We can expect long sieges, ones they'll probably ask us to assist in."

"Why not blow them up? Get rid of them" Trump asked simply.

"Tristain and Germania will need infrastructure to maintain security in the country afterwards and these castles are all well situated to that." His SecDef explained. "They'll want to capture them."

"I don't want any direct fighting." Trump affirmed yet again.

"We don't have to. We can still provide aerial fire support without destroying the structures."

"If you can do it without sending any of our soldiers in, then do it." Trump gave his graces.

"That is a suitable solution," Trudeau approved as well.

"Onto the next matter at hand," Sajjan said, "Our special forces teams are still in Albion conducting reconnaissance. What are we going to do with them once the invasion starts?"

"Keep them out of the crossfire if that's possible." Trudeau said, "I want limited operations only."

"Understood."

"Ours are going to be gone as soon as the front reaches them." Trump directed. Both countries came to a mutual agreement-they were not going to be in the front.

"What kind of logistical support do we want to give to the allied armies?" Mattis asked next. "We've already ruled against flying in their combat forces for them."

"Food, certainly. We don't want the Tristainians or Germanians looting the countryside for food. It looks bad, and it'll be bad for business once everything dies down." Trump answered.

"Not to mention that it'll help with reconstruction afterwards," Trudeau added, "I don't see what else we can offer them in terms of supplies. I want most of our efforts going towards helping the UN."

Trump nodded. The UN could pick up the slack from the US and Canada in terms of humanitarian efforts. The rest of the meeting time was spent discussing other key matters of the invasion such as rules of engagement, treatment of the locals and what role would Earth play in rebuilding Albion. Both sides had a few disagreements, but the plan still came together in a day with one secure overhead rule in regards to the actual military phase:

No direct combat.

Both sides were sticking to their guns and it was unlikely anything was going to shake them.

But there was one big shake up near the end that Mattis proposed, catching the two world leaders off guard.

"What I suggest is that we help modernize the Tristainian Army in the same way we helped their Navy. We should start with helping them establish a modern officer and NCO corps."

"Go on," Trudeau asked skeptically.

"I believe that training the Tristainians would help lessen their reliance on us as well as make sure that the invasion and ensuing occupation goes smoothly," Mattis explained, "We can ensure, through training, that they will treat the locals properly by ingraining in them a code of conduct towards the civilian populations as well as any defeated Albion troops. Occupying a foreign country is something Tristain has never done. They are most certainly ill-equipped and trained for it."

"We have received numerous reports of Tristainian excesses towards Albion POW after the battle of Tristain and we know that many of the troops and officers still hold resentment for what Albion did to their homeland." Sajjan added, getting behind the idea quickly. "This is our best chance to ensure that atrocities don't happen."

"And if they still commit war crimes?" Trudeau asked tensely, "We will be blamed for this."

"The public will be angrier if we did nothing," Sajjan replied, "Especially when we had the power to stop this."

"I should add that this is something our allies will embrace. The only reason we bring it up is a lot of young Tristainians-kids, but officers in that world-are requesting it. We made a significant impact on their minds during the invasion."

"Obviously they recognize a more sophisticated nation when they see it." Trump remarked. "We want these people to be able to defend themselves. That dinner our people attended proves they're getting cocky just because they think we're 100% behind them. We don't want them too cocky."

"I understand your points," Trudeau replied, "But can our training programs be adapted to their reality? From what I know, there is no real standards for training amongst the Tristainian armies since everyone learns from their relatives and tutors rather than military academies."

"We'll have to see if it's feasible. Right now, it's just a concept we'd like to test."

"If you say so, then go ahead and look into it." Trump gave his tacit approval for the whole thing. Maybe it wouldn't work out. Maybe it would. It wasn't weapons, his red line.

"There are certain things that can be easily arranged," Sajjan explained, "Theoretical classes for example about the proper treatment of POW's and local civilians can be a very good start. We can teach them the core principles of the Geneva Conventions."

"We can easily use these classes to implement the basics of Hearts and Minds into their next generation of officers and NCO's. It'll also go a lot way towards instilling a national loyalty and one to the Queen, instead of their families." By now, most of Tristain's noble population had pretty much accepted their presence. That didn't mean Earth would completely turn their back though. They were always looking for ways to subtly increase Henrietta's power. The rebuilding process had done a hell of a lot in that regard but there was still work to do.

"I think that we can explore this possibility," Trudeau finally said after a quick series of reflections, "Work up a few drafts and tell me what can be done."

"Understood."

The very last thing they discussed was the prospect of Emperor Albert coming to Earth. Both leaders were up to the event, but there was the matter of what he wanted to discuss. The most likely answer was a military alliance against Gallia. And while there might be a shared desire to oppose the Southern Kingdom, neither side could shake their misgivings about the Emperor.

But at the very least, they'd let him come and hear him out. Even more history was about to be made.

* * *

Even if you didn't fully trust them, a double agent wasn't much use unless you gave them some free space to act. Or enough rope to hang themselves if your concerns proved founded. But after the last year, faith in Mathilda was higher than average. She had been cooperative and well-behaved. It also helped that Earth had something she held dear.

They were finally sending her out on a mission. To Albion, obviously. They'd had to fully brief her on the events there to explain the context of her mission. The country was still fractured, but from Londinium a coalition was starting to form of factions that claimed to carry on Cromwell's message and goals though none of his original council were still around. They were shunning the notion of a King and dared not take Cromwell's former title. Instead, they founded a council they dubbed the "Holy Restoration Council", which was meant to serve as a governing body for the whole country. As it was, they controlled Londinium and some of the surrounding countryside. But that was still over a million people. Her new employers were wary of this new group and planned to take action. And someone expendable like Mathilda was just the low-risk option to take.

The former Albion spy was going to meet them and offer her services as one of Cromwell's best agents. It was extremely unlikely any of them knew who Mathilda was, or that she'd been captured. To sell her position, they were giving her a fake transcript of some troop movement orders she could present and say she 'acquired' from an Earth officer.

And once she was in, she'd be their eyes and ears. They already knew a lot about this group, but there was undoubtedly more to find out. There'd be agents of their own in Albion she'd communicate with, letting them know all that information plus what the council was up to. If they told her too, she was going to deliver more false information.

One of their 'helicopters' was going to land her in Albion. And after that, she was on her own to do what they requested. Of course she wasn't going to stray, not when all the kids were here. But the kids were the reason she was so hesitant to leave right now, her adoptive sister just as much as the rest of the children put together.

Tiffania's habit of loitering outside the building that served as the prison/intelligence office or attempts to loiter in order to speak to someone important had finally irritated the higher ups enough to demand Mathilda get the girl off their backs or take a hit to their business relationship.

So Mathilda had finally told her the truth. About what she'd done, about what she had done before then, and what she was going to do to earn her and the childrens' freedom. The look on poor Tiffania's innocent face…

The blond half-elf had been avoiding her ever since. Mathilda wished she could stay and reassure her, but that just wasn't possible. She should stay to reassure her that despite all the evil she'd done-she hadn't mentioned any specific deeds, but what spy work entailed was obvious-, she still did it all purely for their sake. But her employers took priority. Tiffania was a kind soul, and she really hoped by the time she could come back to this place, she'd have forgiven her. Hopefully.

She'd gotten guarantees from the Canadian spy, Harper, that the children would all still be here when she got back. Everything was a game of trust now. They were trusting her to do what they requested of her, and she was trusting them to watch the children.

With a heavy sigh, Mathilda stepped into the helicopter's troop compartment and strapped herself in. The things above that made it fly started to spin. She looked out at the guards who'd come to see her off and hand her all the things she'd need. They were impassive as ever. But behind them, she spotted something distinct walking towards the landing pad: Tiffania, being guided by some more agents. It was the first time Mathilda had seen her in days.

When the teen noticed the helicopter was already about to leave, she quickened her pace. Mathilda leaned forward in her seat as the elf stopped just behind the agents that had walked her here. She started jumping and waving. And suddenly this was just like any other time Mathilda had left for her missions, Tiffania wishing her well without a thought for whatever secretive things her caretaker got up to. She waved back as much as she could with the straps holding her in.

She was shouting something. Mathilda couldn't hear it, but she was certain it the usual "Be safe!"

"I will!" She shouted back, knowing full well the girl wouldn't hear her. But she had a feeling her sister knew what she'd said.

The pilots glanced back at her, and Mathilda almost swore they lingered for longer than what was needed to let her have their moment. But the metal craft soon rose in the sky, carrying her for Albion. And as the floating island came into view, Mathilda felt a sense of serene calm. Her employers were different, her transport was different, and her targets were different. But this was her line of work. Where she was most comfortable. For all the differences, it'd play out just like all her other missions: she'd go in, get it done, and return home to Tiffania and the children.

Fouquet the Thief was back in the saddle.

 **Author's endnote: Hope you enjoyed this 21k words chapter! As always, please read and review!**


	22. Chapter 20: Broken Secrets

**Disclaimer: FoZ/ZnT belong to the departed Noboru Yamaguchi and whoever inherited the I.P.. Any real life organisation/person is merely being used in a fictional non-profit way.**

 **Authors' notes: Human civilization's earliest known myth is the Epic of Gilgamesh, dated at circa 2100BC… hence why the ambassadors said why civilization is 4000 years. We didn't say humans didn't exist before then since evidence points to at least 5000-6000.**

 **Otherwise… expect the next chapters to be a very bumpy ride and don't forget to review. They keep us going!**

 **Update: We've made revisions to the chapter due to contradictions to source material lore.**

 **Broken Secrets**

A visit wasn't happening immediately. Saito had understood that. What he hadn't understood was how many people were jumping through hoops just to facilitate it. The US and Canada didn't mind all that much. They were trying to turn Saito into an asset. Committing some manpower to appeasing him and making him indebted was a worthy investment.

Japan did mind though. They did not have diplomatic relations with any nation in Halkegenia. They weren't alone in that; a lot of nations except for a small part of the Commonwealth were of the opinion it wasn't worth having to go through the US and Canada to get to it; the UN was far from the only party that thought America and Canada were monopolizing the new world. The US and Canada assured them it could all be done through them, but that was insulting in its own way. If they'd known this was just to turn a citizen of theirs into an asset, all America and Canada would've seen was a bureaucratic brick wall.

Saito wasn't a daily concern on the Japanese government, but they were still keeping track of him. Like Devers had threatened, there were some people in the country's security agencies that wanted to yank his citizenship, but nothing was decided yet. But as far as a country's obligation to its citizens went, they were starting to think their's for Saito Hiraga was getting more unnecessary by the day.

Afterall, the boy seemed to be doing very well over there. He had become a distinguished member of their society with a title to his name, a nice girl, and large amounts of property. There was no real urgency for the Japanese government to bring him back… and explain why and how he was there to the people of Japan. The Zero and its pilot were public knowledge and it had caused enough of a stir in the media.

It was a lot of work for the CIA and CSIS to cover up the Hiragas' trip to Tristain. The alibi of them visiting his brother was not convincing enough in their opinion. After all, why couldn't they meet with Hayate in Montréal when he'd come back from Tristain? The agencies were working overtime to come up with a foolproof story.

No wanted any rival countries, namely China and Russia, to start snooping around too much nor they didn't want anyone hounding the family period.

Most of all, Saito had no idea what he was putting his poor parents through. It wasn't just that they had to talk to their bosses to get vacations that overlapped. It wasn't just that they had to get travel documents to North America. It wasn't just that they had to talk to dozens of mysterious suited men in three different countries and sign a ton of non-disclosure papers.

They had to brush up on their English; they'd been assured it was readily spoken in Tristain. But they had to find out just how Tristain was too as a country. They weren't travellers, having never left Japan at all.

Now they had to travel across the world before crossing dimensions to a fantasy world to meet their sons. They read up as much as they could on Canada which was no difficult task. The Great North was a popular tourist destination worldwide… Tristain on the other hand was another task.

"You just had to show those isekai series when he was little, didn't you?" Nasu complained as she read another article on Halkeginia's environment. There were dozens of academic articles about it, mostly in English or French though.

Her husband rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Did you really think that I'd know that he'd end up in one?"

His wife glared at him again.

"At least the weather's not too awful," she commented dryly, "I hope that his little girlfriend of his is pleasant."

"It looks like a good country." Her husband offered. Tristain certainly did seem scenic. The temperature was described as nice. It wasn't dangerous at all, either. Besides common animals like chickens or cows that were nearly identical, there were a lot of fantasy creatures in that world-orcs, goblins, and even dragons, almost all that had been dissected and otherwise examined. The crazy thing was, they were all physical and evolutionarily practical, and some were even tamable or had basic societies.

There were minor experiments about things as complex as interbreeding compatible creatures through dimensions, and talk about things as simple as opening a zoo. Concerns about invasive species kept a lot of stuff regarded to other lifeforms limited. The Hiragas only cared that they wouldn't get eaten or something, but all those fantasy creatures were rarer in Tristain then they were other nations in that world, and attacks on human settlements were rare.

"Yes… yes," Nasu continued, "I hope he didn't do anything stupid to that girl."

"Don't worry, we raised him right. I hope his lands are nice," he continued, trying to shift the subject.

"I hope he can take care of those people though. He still hasn't finished school."

Obviously, they'd read up on Tristain society too. It was like Medieval Europe almost to a tee. It was being lauded as the biggest observable social experiment in history. But there was magic to learn about from the people too. The exacts were still unknown, but some ambitious (or possibly insane) scientists were thinking they were looking at a possible way to evolve the human race. Stuff that both Japanese adults shook their heads at and thumbed to the next pages.

Tristain was apparently unique for its high density of nobles, people who could use magic. There were so many in fact, there wasn't enough land for all of them; quite a few were landless and made their names as juniors to other nobles. Their son was very fortunate despite everything. Tristainian nobles were lauded as relatively benign, but there was still criticism from academics when it came to human rights. Who was Saito learning from?

"Maybe he went to speak with the Embassy people? America and Canada have really been helping out there, it says. If they can teach some farmers who'd never had electricity, I think our son can learn." He showed her a journal that had a picture of a Tristainian farm, outfitted with modern irrigation tech that definitely looked out of place.

"I can't wait to meet his girlfriend's parents though," Nasu sternly said, ignoring his point. "She has to be from a good family no?"

"They'd probably be stuck up people," Ichika pointed out, "Didn't he say that she was a noble or something like that?"

"I _will_ be talking to them about these ideas of marriage he has in his head." The woman shook her own head. "Married...he's only 18!"

"Let the poor boy dream a bit," Hayate remarked dryly, "He's just being a kid. Must I also remind you of a certain diary I found when I came over to your house when we were young?"

"That… doesn't count," she glared, turning red.

"Sure, it doesn't." He laughed to himself. "He's alive. And like I keep saying, he's got something going for him."

"I'm not saying I'm _mad_ he's found something to do with his life." The woman muttered, half angry and half embarrassed. "I'm just not pleased he had to go so far away to do it."

"You're acting like when Hayate left." At those words, his wife loudly set down what she was reading and glared.

"I'm mad at him too." She warned, her eyes narrowing. "I don't believe for a second his university is making him stay so long. I'm thinking you and your brother poisoned them both with all that nonsense." Her husband smirked to himself.

"I'm sure they couldn't get them out in time." The man offered as an explanation to the war. "And he's probably helping people there now still instead of staying with Saito all day. He's getting experience. He'll be one of the most experienced doctors in Japan when he comes back."

"Hmph." Was the only response he got back. The two adults continued their reading in silence.

* * *

A group of nondescript men entered the Tristain Academy of Magic. Every student who saw them were wondering why people from Earth were here this time. They did not look like the scientists who were working with their professors, many of whom had arrived in recent weeks. As it turned out, none were more surprised than the scientists when they learned who was here. Surprise that turned to anger and fear when their belongings started getting searched. Many were cornered in their lodgings, and three in particular were targeted in Colbert's lab.

"Gentlemen, please! This isn't appropriate!" Colbert insisted. Leroy and Richer were behind him, grinding their teeth as agents snooped through their phones.

"That's for us to decide." Devers replied, holding up a design document. Just because Gallia and Albion were the new focus, it didn't mean Tristain was free from the eyes of the spooks. They were still watching for dangerous locals and working with the Customs agencies to watch for civilians from Earth who wanted to go around the trade and exchange laws passed by the US Congress and Canadian Parliament. There'd be violations of those since day one. Unscrupulous businessmen or a few cocky academics who underestimated the Military Police's ability to interdict smuggling. There were government eyes on everything crossing world boundaries.

So obviously they noticed the large amount of funds suddenly being routed to the Tristain Academy of Magic. And they noticed very quickly the amount of locally and internationally produced wood and iron being amassed outside its walls. An investigation was in order. And what they found was a certain familiar Fire Mage working together with researchers from Earth to mix together magic and technology in a way no one had yet conceived.

All the design and sales documents they found pointed to attempts to bring together materials and manpower to build a massive airship, a very large airship at that, equipped with propellers and powered by a massive steam engine. It was well within the resource capabilities of any Halkegenian nation, and it'd be revolutionary enough to shake the world and balance of power. So obviously, there was reason to be concerned. The reason for the shakedown of Colbert's office and all Earth citizens involved was because it possibly crossed over into the biggest violation of those laws: war materials.

Now, Devers obviously didn't suspect Colbert of being a warmonger. The man insisted it would be an experiment for peaceful purposes, and the CIA agent truly believed him. But, once the cat was out of the bag, there was every chance the rest of Halkegenia would be trying to recreate this tech. And it had as many warfare uses as it did peaceful. Sometimes, you had to make sacrifices for the greater good. And just because Colbert had sympathy didn't mean he was above the rules.

Devers went over the papers while his agents made photographic copies.

"How long have you had an idea like this?" Devers questioned. Colbert was fidgeting in his seat, watching the men take some documents away and leaving others out of order or out of place.

"Ah, well. Saito mentioned something about the principles of a steam engine not long after he arrived. He was a little unsure about it himself, but he gave me enough information to eventually replicate it. And the propeller, I got from the airplane that was found in Tarbes."

"Uh huh." Devers acknowledged, remembering all the bullshit the kid had told the Queen that she'd regurgitated on the flight to Ottawa. Thank God this world had snatched an idiot up instead of a prodigy. "Look, Jean. Mind if I call you that?" The man nodded. "What I'm worried about is that other people are going to see this and copy it. Not just merchants or for transport. War. You wanna know what I think about when I see this?"

"No." Colbert said cautiously. "But please, tell me."

"The crusades in this world have failed because of logistics. Can't get reinforcements to the front fast enough. Can't get food and water fast enough. But with something like this? It's a hell of a lot easier." Colbert looked uneased. "Hell, they could probably just fly South from Romalia directly into the Holy Lands with something like this."

"Mr. Devers, I assure you that I will keep this technology a closely guarded secret."

"I have no doubt that you will do your best in keeping this a secret, Jean," Devers stated simply, "My leaders aren't against any technological advances in Tristain or even Halkegenia. The steam engine did a hell of a lot of good for Earth back when we first made it."

"Than why are you here?"

"Like I just said, we are worried about any advances that could be misused by dangerous people. Just how do you intend to guard these secrets?"

The professor stayed silent.

"Got to say, Jean, you're not filling us with confidence here."

"I've never really thought about that, to be honest with you," Colbert answered. Devers smirked.

"We are keeping most of the technical aspects." Leroy interjected. "On our phones. Or we were." He glanced back at the agent still going through his. "I doubt any spy from here will figure that out."

"No one here will comprehend how it works anyways," Richer argued, "They won't be able to open anything."

"Better safe than sorry," Devers replied, "We can't tell if any spy is overhearing anyone teaching the locals how a PC or phone works."

"No one here has been doing that!"

"You know how many soldiers have been reprimanded in the last 6 months for letting the locals play with their phones or tablets?" Devers questioned them. "Of course you don't. But it does happen."

"The point is that we are not at risk of being spied on!" Leroy argued, "The students don't know what we are working on and all of the other staff members are loyal."

"This is a project meant for peaceful intent anyways. This ship is meant to test the feasibility of a steam powered airship using both Fire and Wind magic," Colbert stated, "And push the capabilities of windstones. Surely both worlds would be interested in this research?"

Devers knew some people were. Earth's trials with Windstones were still pretty limited, but they were still ongoing. This experiment could probably produce data a lot of people were interested in, like if Windstones lost their effectiveness at certain speeds.

These design documents weren't for a warship, they were for a test platform. There were certain technologies Earth wasn't allowed to share here. Steam engines weren't one of them, being argued as age appropriate. It was an accepted possibility that they might find it out naturally on their own.

Except they hadn't. They'd been prodded by Earth actors. And now Earth seemed to be paying for most of it. Devers shook his head.

"Very well then," the agent replied, "This is a gray area, so I can't be making any calls. I'll have to refer it back to my bosses on Earth. You're not manufacturing and selling weapons here, at least."

"But of course! I want my ship to be a tool of peace, not war. I'd never dream of trying to become rich off of it." Colbert insisted.

"The peaceful purposes of this will far exceed the bad." Richer claimed, a claim Devers thought was B.S.

"That's what we figured."

"Then I can continue my research on this?" Colbert asked.

Devers nodded.

"For now, but we'll make a few surprise visits here and there to make sure you keep your end of the business deal until my bosses decide. Just understand we reserve the right to shut this down if we want. And we'll be keeping copies of those documents. For reference."

"That is acceptable."

"I'm glad we could come to a deal," Devers said as he and his team finished photographing and taking what they needed. They two brooding scientists got their phones back.

"Would you mind if I walked you out?" Colbert asked.

"I see no problems," Devers said before Colbert led them out. The business of the day concluded, the agent adopted a more casual attitude. "Have all your wounds healed, M. Colbert?"

"Yes, they have healed fairly well."

"I'm happy to hear that," Devers said pleasantly. "You are moving on from those events."

"Yes, it reminded me why I chose this new career and a life of tinkering. As unpleasant as it was, it has given me new vigor."

"Almost dying makes you remember what's most important." Devers said, an almost morbid statement. Colbert couldn't help but agree… and wondered what kind of past did this man have.

The professor and group of agents passed a body of students heading somewhere, and something in the group caught the agent's eye. So much in fact, he turned his head to watch the group as it passed, but keeping his stride the same.

"M. Devers?" Colbert asked.

The agent shook his head.

"You recognize any of those students?" He asked.

"Yes, why?" Colbert asked, curious but concerned.

"The one with the blue hair-what's her name?"

"That would be Ms. Tabitha. But why?" Now Colbert was really concerned. She was one of his best students, despite her introversion.

"Probably nothing." The agent shrugged. "Just looked like someone I saw recently and I wondered if they were related." That was a lie-he'd talked to the girl on the night of the hostage crisis. But now, with cooled off heads, there was something about her that made him wary. Unusual hair color wasn't weird in this world, but hers in particular...

"Who did she remind you of?"

"Just a face I saw at the Gallian border once." Devers lied.

"Ah, well, that's possible. She is an exchange student from Gallia."

"Oh?" Was that just a weird coincidence?

"Yes, Tabitha's family arranged for her to study here. They wanted to give her the best education in Halkeginia. She's one of the few Gallian students we have here."

"Good enough reason if you ask me. I know a few friends on Earth who sent their kids to study in other countries and there were a few foreigners at the schools where I studied that came to the US for better education."

"Some things do not change, no matter what world we are in," Colbert remarked.

"No, they don't." Devers agreed. The two men made it outside and bid each other farewell. While agents were loading what small amount of cargo they'd taken into vehicles, Devers made a call.

"Just saw something at the Academy that I want checked out."

* * *

The once serene and well kept lands of the Valliere Estate looked more like an artillery target range these days. Louise, and her steadily improving Void Magic were the blame for that.

"Explosion!" At Louise's word, a large concussive blast erupted several dozen yards away, kicking up dirt into the air.

Saito was watching from a distance behind, proud of his girlfriend and just a liiiiitle bit enamored with what the dissipating shockwave did to her skirt when it blew back on her. "You know, Derf," Saito addressed the sword laying across his lap. "I guess you were right."

"Of course I was!" The sword boasted. After the Valliere family had returned from the hospital, Cattleya's situation had improved drastically. She still wasn't at 100%, and her parents weren't quite shaking off their over-protectiveness yet, but it was undeniable that things had improved.

And so had Louise. Not very long after, she'd learned how to cast another Void Spell, the same one she'd unconsciously casted during the siege: Explosion. After they witnessed it for the first time, and Louise's parents reluctantly held back their groundskeeping staff to let her keep practicing, Derf had mentioned a lot of a Void Mages power was related to their emotional health and stability. Louise had casted explosion during the battle from all the emotional stress, and all that self-doubt had kept her from repeating any Void Magic till she was convinced otherwise. And now that Cattleya, her favorite sister, was all better, she could suddenly perform another spell. It was all in the mind.

"How do you know so much about Void Magic?" Saito asked curiously.

"Eh, I've been around a few thousand years. Hung around a lot of people. You learn the craziest stuff when you travel."

"Oh yeah? Any other words of wisdom?" Saito asked as Louise sat down to rest. She still couldn't cast Void very often. Only a few times a day. But it was like a muscle. Slowly improving.

"I need to remember some, partner. When you're old as I am, things become a little hard to remember."

"Are you sure you're not just keeping secrets from me?" Saito asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Honest partner. Think you remembered what you did last week at this time?"

"I guess." Saito shrugged. "Just promise if you have any that can save my life, don't wait until the last minute."

"Promise. I never let you down did I?"

Saito grinned.

"You never did partner," he answered.

"Exactly, I'm here to serve. For a long time, I hope."

"Me too Derf, me too." Saito rubbed his chin for a minute. "Say, what have you heard about the Church in the centuries you've been around?"

"Milleniums, partner." The sword corrected. "And they're a bunch of jerks. I hear that every century."

"That bad?"

"Yeah, always trying to control people and putting their noses everywhere." Derf 'shrugged', "Did your world have something like those zealots?"

"Yeah, it was the Catholic Church but they lost all of their power a long time ago," Saito explained as he remembered his history lessons, "Nowadays, they just exist as a religion with a lot of people following them but nothing else."

"I hope it stays that way."

"Don't worry about that. The actual pope of the Catholic Church is pretty nice from what I remember too."

Derf seemed to sigh in happiness.

"Your world has always sounded nice, partner. You gotta take me there someday. Hey, heads up!" The sword suddenly warned. Saito glanced up to see Louise approaching them, slightly out of breath.

"What were you two talking about just then?"

"Just stuff." Saito shrugged. "You looked good out there." She blushed.

"Yeah, he really enjoyed the view, Pinky." Derf snickered.

"The… view?" Louise's eyes narrowed as she tried to understand.

"Skirts and airblasts never did mix!" The sword said in a cheeky voice while Saito tried desperately to hush it. Louise turned bright red as she grabbed her skirt and straightened it out, making sure nothing was folded upwards.

"Y-you p-pervert! How dare you-! You do this every month! You-!" Her fury quieted out into a slight peep and she straightened up. Saito recognized the signs one of her parents, or Éléonore, was coming.

"Your efforts were bearing fruit," Lady Vallière said, not noticing the little squabble. "I could mistake you for an Earth Mage of your Father's caliber."

"Thank you mother."

"The Founder's power is breathtaking," she continued, "As you grow, I hope that you do understand the responsibilities that come with them, Louise?"

"Yes, Mother

"And I trust, Viscount de Hiraga," She addressed Saito, "That you are keeping an eye out so no more foolish boys try and visit my daughter?" She was referring to the incident with the Romalian Emissary.

"Yes. Yes Ma'am." Saito corrected after a second. The pink haired woman nodded.

"You look tired, Louise. Come inside and have something to drink. You are invited as well, Viscount"

"Yes, mother." It was really just a suggestion, but Louise was still conditioned to follow her parents' words.

"I think the Pinky's parents have really warmed up to you." Derflinger said in a low voice as the two walked towards the house.

"I think so too." Saito agreed. "But I'm not sure if they'll let me marry her yet."

"Only one way to find out." His weapon reminded him. Yeah, he had to ask. That was not something Saito looked forward to.

"Now what are you talking about?" Louise demanded, expecting more perversion.

"Nothing of that kind, Louise. Just planning for when my parents'll come. I'm still wondering how they'd react to you and Derf." He knew he hadn't mentioned his sword to them. That would be a surprise.

"You should probably talk to your girlfriend about the whole tying the knot thing before her parents, though." The sword advised. Saito had already revealed to his parents he wanted to marry Louise. He'd even revealed it a spy. But beyond that half-joke at the party following the award ceremony, he hadn't mentioned it again to Louise. He really should.

It might even be harder than asking her parents.

* * *

Sometimes, a hunch was all you needed. Devers had a hunch that Tabitha looked similar to the teenage girl they'd seen around King Joseph and even the Mad King himself, and it'd let them to discovering a spy linked directly to the said king. It hadn't even taken two weeks.

They'd followed a letter she'd sent and intercepted at the border just to have a peek. If nothing panned out in it, then they'd let it go as a dead lead like dozens they'd looked into before; she was not the first student they'd watched and dismissed. Just the fact it had been addressed to the Gallian Monarch's residence was enough of an eye raiser, but the contents sealed the deal.

It was a report about what the author saw going on at the Portal. Not the idle observations of a teenager, an in-depth and precise recollection. This was intelligence that could be used for military or economic attacks.

"Well, I'll be damned," he chuckled as the agent finished briefing him about the Gallian report, "It's not good news, but it's not everyday that a spy literally falls into your hands." Those days at the start of contact when Albion had done exactly that had been a crude kind of fun for both agents.

"So what do you figure she is?" Harper asked, grinning side to side. "Bastard daughter?"

"Could be. Whatever the relationship, she's definitely sending them intel. No idea what she's sent them before now. Only one way to find out. Get me a chopper and Queen Henrietta on the phone."

Two hours later, Devers was delivering the evidence directly to the Queen of Tristain.

"Greetings Agent Devers," she said as he entered her study. "What is so urgent?" She sounded cautious. She was still hard at work trying to get the Royal Army up and running and preparing everything else for the invasion as well as rebuilding her kingdom. She didn't want anymore problems.

"Trouble with spies, your Majesty." He handed her the letter. "This was sent from a student at the Tristain Academy of Magic directly to King Joseph." The Queen's eyes widened slightly as she took the photo-copied letter from his hands and read it. Agnes leaned over her shoulder and did the same, brow furling.

"A student?!" Henrietta exclaimed, "A spy hidden right in one of our crown jewels!"

"She was simply hidden in plain sight," Devers stated, "It is an international institution. One of the best disguises possible since no one would suspect her or her letters. She's extremely quiet, keeps to herself, doesn't cause trouble and doesn't talk much with anyone else. Makes her a perfect spy."

"How did you even suspect her in the first place?" Agnes asked.

"Just a hunch." The agent answered truthfully. "To be completely honest, I think she might be related to King Joseph himself. She bears a lot of similar traits, namely the blue hair. We also saw a girl in the Palace of Versailles that has a similar face."

Henrietta was still too focused on the spy to realize her allies somehow had eyes in Gallia. "But that, and whatever else she might've sent, is something we can only find out if we arrest her."

"If?" Agnes repeated. "Of course we will. She is a spy."

"Are we authorized to do so?" Devers asked.

"Quickly, please, if you intend to help," Henrietta stated, "Agnes, ready yourselves and the musketeers to make the arrest."

"Yes, your Majesty."

"It'd be our pleasure."

"We'll speak to the Academy staff, find out what we can. We've actually encountered her before, during the hostage crisis. I know she has a dragon familiar. We'll need to plan."

"You must speak with Chevalier de Gramont as well. His knights guard the Academy. Perhaps they can be of assistance," Henrietta remarked.

Devers remembered that name. The young man made headlines for his capture of Cromwell afterall.

"I'll see if he can't help us a bit."

"Splendid," Henrietta said in a business tone. "Your efforts are appreciated as always." All of what they needed gotten, the two left the Queen to her business. Agnes got on her radio.

"Anaïs, Monique, bring your squads to the front hall. We have a mission from the Queen." She put the radio back on her hip and turned to Devers. "I have never met people so inclined to finding trouble."

"Only to hunt it down and kill it, Captain." The agent responded.

* * *

After two days of discussion, fact checking, map reading, and a bit of research, both sides moved in.

"Are you absolutely certain?" Guiche asked, staring down at the paper with a bad feeling in his gut. He was meeting with an agent from Earth as well as Captain de Milan at the portal outpost, answering summons they'd sent him directly. That alone was cause of concern. The letter he read was simply confirmation.

"Yes Chevalier de Gramont," Devers said, "We have been able to confirm that Tabitha is not just a foreign student from Gallia but a spy for King Joseph. Me and the Captain have seen the evidence with our own eyes. The Queen said your knights would help make the arrest."

"Of course. We are in service to Queen Henrietta." Although Guiche said it and meant it, it didn't stop the uneasy feeling in his stomach. Him and Tabitha weren't great friends by any account, but they were still very familiar to the other, and had a common bond through Saito. But if she was really a spy, then what had to be done had to be done.

"I must warn you that Tabitha is a powerful Triangle mage, attuned to Wind. She is also the master of a very powerful familiar, Sylphid, a Wind Dragon."

"That confirms what we know about her," Agnes said, "My Musketeers and the Earth agents with us already have a plan for the dragon. That and her magical abilities is why we will need your knights."

"My knights?"

"Yes," Devers stated, "I need some of your most powerful and reliable men to help us. Can you help us?"

Guiche paused for a moment as he mulled over the implications. The Earth agent and the Queen were asking to put him and his fellow knights in harm's way once more. Tabitha was one of the powerful students despite her diminutive size and unassuming appearance.

Yet, he felt that he needed to act. His homeland was at risk once more and so were his friends.

"I can understand if you want don't want to risk your men in a dangerous operation against someone you know as well."

Guiche looked at Devers and Agnes, his eyes steely.

"What is your plan Captain de Milan, M. Devers? I'm afraid we'll have to act today; she's returning home." The two adults glanced at each other. They'd considered the possibility of delaying a day or two for more direct recon, but it looked like this was happening now. They took Guiche into one of the buildings where they'd commandeered a room. Guiche noticed about a dozen Musketeers including Agnes but only two other Earth agents. One was holding a gigantic musket.

They walked Guiche through the plan. Two of his men would have to be in the room above and drop a net to prevent Tabitha from escaping from the window on her familiar. The issue that Guiche's men absolutely had to deal with was Kirche-they had to separate her from Tabitha to make the arrest. They intended to question her separately, obviously, but trying to corner two armed mages was dangerous.

"I know of two of my knights that can be entrusted with blocking off her window," Guiche stated, "Malicorne and Reynald are my most trusted men."

"One of your men will have to distract Kirche." Agnes reminded him. Guiche had thought about that.

"Please, allow me to do it." He volunteered. "I will approach them and request to speak to Tabitha alone." Both adults glanced at each other.

"Are you sure about that?"

"I wish to confront her directly." Guiche said with certainty in his voice. "I may be able to convince her to surrender without a fight." Tabitha was a skilled mage, but Guiche thought of her as meek. And if not...he didn't want to risk his men.

"If we can take her in without a fight, all the better." Devers nodded. "If you think you can do it, you're welcome to try." Yeah, Guiche was a kid, but he seemed to have a head on his shoulders. Wartime experience helped as well. Devers wasn't going to police Tristain's security service to the letter. He had armed operatives with him; he was not concerned about anything going wrong.

The three talked for a while longer, ironing out the details. Finally, Guiche was released to go rally his men. The Musketeers and CIA entered the grounds only a few minutes later.

* * *

For the first time in many months, Tabitha was returning to Gallia. Her uncle and cousin had ordered it. Tabitha held no real love for either, but it wasn't an option. Her mother was still their hostage and there was nothing she could do about it.

It was her only reason to return to Gallia. She went to her quarters after her classes had finished in order to finish packing. There was not much for her to pack. Some spare clothes and her new books that she had brought. Her greatest luxury, one that allowed her the freedom to escape her dreary existence. With those books, she was no longer a hostage of her circumstances but a brave hero that stood alongside Harry Potter, the Jedi and the Fellowship of the Ring against their worlds' evil.

With a small smile, she finished placing her last books in her trunk before she went down for dinner. No doubt that her best friend was already waiting for her. She walked to the hall where all the food was served. The hallways were deserted, many students having returned home even earlier. It was the breaks before the end of the year exams. Many had also returned home because of the impending invasion of Albion, either to watch their holdings in another family member's stead, or take part in the invasion itself.

When Tabitha arrived at the banquet hall, she recognized her dear friend. Kirche was sitting, dressed in a flattering tank top and short shorts she had recently brought from the Earth district while some of the remaining boys were enjoying the sights. Dress code was already flying out the window, and the Academy was on a much casual attitude.

She was going to be accompanying Tabitha down South. The blue-haired girl had invited her. After so long in Tristain, Tabitha had actually grown accustomed to not being alone. And it was always the Germanian girl by her side. She'd fought by her side. Kirche was her greatest and truest friend.

Tabitha was going to tell her the truth about her spy work once they got down there.

"Tabitha!" the Germanian waved her over.

"Kirche."

"I've been waiting for you. Are you hungry?" she asked as Tabitha sat down next to her.

"No."

"That's no way for a growing girl to think." Kirche teased as she piled food onto a plate, "You must try this new roast beef. It is absolutely divine."

"Sure," Tabitha relented as she cut a small slice from the piece of meat.

"Are you ready to go yet?"

"Everything's packed," Tabitha replied as she ate a piece, "You are right about this meat."

Kirche giggled a bit.

"Good taste is something my family enjoys. Now eat up. We got a long way before we get to your home."

The girls enjoyed each other's company, Kirche doing her best to get her small friend to talk more. Before long, their shared meal was over and both girls made their way to Tabitha's quarters.

"What was this new book you wanted to show me?" Kirche asked as she and Tabitha sat on the Gallian mage's bed. Tabitha pulled up a copy of _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_.

"It is the third one in the series." Tabitha explained.

"So what happens to Harry Potter and his friends?" Kirche asked. While she wasn't as avid a reader as her Gallian friend, she always enjoyed hearing about her friend's interest. With a little effort, no doubt that Tabitha would smile a bit more.

"Well, Harry has a bad summer so far and ran away from his family after he inflated another one of his horrible relatives," Tabitha explained, a hint of wistfulness in her voice while Kirche chuckled, "He's staying away at Diagon Alley but finds out that one of Voldemort's followers escaped and might want to kill him out of revenge."

"That sounds so exciting." Kirche commented, "What happens next?"

"I'm at the part where Harry and his friends return to Hogwarts but they're attacked by the guards of Azkaban on the train but the new professor saves them."

"Wonderful. Did they make a movie out of this book?"

Tabitha smiled a bit.

"Yes, but I want to read the books first. The shopkeeper told me that the movies removed many excellent moments that are only in the books."

"Did he tell you why?" Kirche wondered why. If these stories were amazing, why would they cut out moments.

"He explained that movies have limited time they can play and that they are expensive to make so they rewrite the stories to fit."

"That must be disappointing."

"It isn't that bad apparently." Tabitha finished, "Are you ready to leave soon? I think we can leave now."

Her friend smiled.

"I'll go get my luggage!"

The Germanian walked out with a smile on her face. Tabitha looked out the window for a moment. Things were getting better.

"Ready!" A smiling Kirche returned to the room with only one case of luggage. "I only packed one, just like you said. You really know how to torture a girl!"

Tabitha had a small smile as she returned to her window and summoned Sylphid. The Rhyme Dragon had its nest in the nearby forest, but it would be there soon. As the girls did one last inventory on their luggage, a knock sounded at the door. To their surprise, it was the leader of the Academy's new guard force.

"Ladies." Guiche greeted politely. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"No, but you caught us just before we were about to leave." Kirche said. "Tabitha invited me to her family's manor in Gallia."

"Ah. I'll make this quick then. May I speak to Tabitha alone, please?" Guiche requested. Kirche's eyebrows almost shot into her fiery red hair, and Tabitha tilted her head to the side in slight curiosity.

"Weeeellll." Kirche said flirtatiously. "Of course. I'll give you two a moment!" She was imagining another dramatic scandal, like the one after the summoning ceremony. She guessed boys didn't change all that much. Guiche rolled his eyes in annoyance. Tabitha was not his type of woman and his heart belonged to Montmorency. The Germanian left them with a wink and a wave. Guiche, Tabitha noticed, watched the doorway for a length of time before turning back to her.

"Tabitha." He said seriously. "I am here on official business." He pulled his wand from his pocket and let it rest at his side. His cold tone was a dead giveaway. "I have been ordered to bring you in for questioning, on suspicion of espionage against the Kingdom of Tristain."

She was caught. She didn't know how, but they knew. She couldn't get hold up. Not now. She had to leave now, without Kirche.

Guiche was fast on the draw, but Tabitha already had her staff in her hand and Guiche had underestimated the speed and energy the normally quiet girl could put into her spell work. By the time he'd raised his wand and opened his mouth, his foe had already cast her own spell. A gust of wind rocked the room, scattering paper and other loose items all over.

Her pulse quickened as her spell sent Guiche tumbling backwards, breaking through the door and tumbling into the hallway. Shouting was suddenly heard followed by thumping boots.

She made a break for the window, when suddenly a chain net fell over it. Unknown to her, there were Undine Knights in the room on the floor above who'd lowered it. Tabitha had revealed to the authorities how she'd escaped during the hostage crisis, and they weren't giving her a chance to repeat it.

She spun around at the sound of metal footsteps to see three Musketeers, including their Captain, run into the room and take aim at her with pistols. And without warning, they fired. Cold fear registered in Tabitha's brain before the pain did. What was it like to die from a gunshot? Was it like burning? Being torn by claws?

It was a shocking pain that struck her to the bone and made her convulse. But it was over just as she hit the ground. It started to ebb and the sensation was replaced by numbness. Musketeers hurried forward and grabbed her arms and legs. Her staff was quickly taken. The Captain of the Musketeers stepped forward and stood over her, and Tabitha noticed her pistol had string coming out of it. She followed them and realized they were now imbedded in her chest. That wasn't a flintlock pistol, it was something different. They pulled it from her chest and rolled her over to restrain her limbs. She vaguely heard someone congratulating the Musketeers.

Sylphid arrived to her summons just then, and stopped the hover in front of the window. No sooner had she, did something fired from the window below strike her soft underbelly and make her cry out. The massive musket Guiche had seen the agent carrying was actually a dart gun, and they'd loaded one up with enough fast acting tranquilizer to knock out a bull elephant.

Sylphid nudged the net with her snout, but the chemicals were already starting to take effect. The dragon started to descend as it grew dizzy. Tabitha didn't know that though. She'd only seen her familiar cry out in pain and then start to fall. And it terrified her.

"Sylphid…" She said softly.

"That dragon will be fine. It's going with America and Canada." Agnes informed her as she finished tying the bounds and pulled her to her feet. They'd taken her staff, her familiar, and, Tabitha realized, by extension they'd taken away what was left of her life.

There was no way she could save her mother now. The next moments were a blur for the Gallian mage as she was escorted out of the Academy's student quarters. Guiche followed them with some of his knights, looking visibly disgusted with her. Tabitha tried guiltily to ignore the busted lip she'd given him. A familiar voice shouted.

"What are you doing to her?!"

"Crown business." Agnes coldly replied to Kirche, "I will say no further. Gramond, keep her away." She ordered her technical equal who nodded, "And compliments to you and your men for a job well done." Those words seemed to enrage Kirche.

"What did you do, you bastard?!" She pushed against Guiche's chest when he blocked her.

"Merely ensuring the security of Tristain and the Academy. Take me to your room, and I will tell you. I need to ask some questions as well." But seeing her best friend being hauled away, obviously Kirche wasn't going to agree to that. As her yelling got dimmer the further away they led her, Tabitha really hoped the girl wouldn't be framed a spy by association.

The Musketeers led her outside to a helicopter and pushed her aboard before climbing in too. The pilots took off, taking them above the Academy and then west.

It was the last time Tabitha would ever see inside the Academy walls again.

* * *

The decision to not kill the spy's Wind Dragon outright did certainly look odd to some people. To the Canadian soldiers who got the assignment to drive the damn thing all the way across Tristain to Clément-sur-Mer, it was outright bullshit. But it was their orders, so here they were: an unlucky engineer squad who had to chain the damn thing down on the back of a flatbed semi-truck, and an infantry company that would be escorting it on its journey or, worst case scenario, putting it down if something went awry.

"You heard the word Brisebois?" Huynh said as he watched the engineers shackling up the dragon.

"No?"

"Apparently, the spy they got was one of the kids that was with us on that field trip."

"No way," Brisebois said, astonished.

"Yeah. Reminds me of one of the old Simpsons episodes. The one where Bart gets sent to France as a foreign exchange and the kid taking his place is a Soviet spy or something?"

"Nah. Don't remember that one."

"Fair enough. I think it was one of the first ones actually"

"What the hell do you think they want it for though?" Brisebois asked as he glanced at the engineers.

"No idea." Lieutenant Huynh answered. "It's a rare breed, isn't it? Doesn't look like the kind they usually have around here. Maybe some scientists want to dissect it. Maybe they want to find out if it's edible or if they can make Draconic Park or some shit like that." Both men were watching from beside a G-Wagon as Military Engineers strapped down the sedated blue reptile onto a flatbed truck.

"Everything's going as planned?" another voice cut in.

"Yes sir!" Huynh replied as he saw Captain Jacques approaching him, "The dragon is secured and we're ready to escort it. Any idea why they want it?"

"From what intel told us, the dragon's magically bound to the spy and would be able to tell if we got its master. Command wants it out of the picture so it doesn't attack now that we got the spy in custody. Some scientists and intel guys also want to study it. Definitely a different breed from the ones they usually ride around here."

"Seems like we hit the jackpot then," Huynh quipped as an engineer made his way over and saluted them.

"We've finished tying up the dragon," he reported, "It's been heavily sedated for the journey. Intel says it shouldn't wake up."

"They back that up with any evidence?" The Captain asked skeptically.

"If they had any, they didn't give it to us."

Huynh glanced over at the tied-up, sleeping dragon.

"Looks asleep to me. They gave you more in case it wakes up, didn't they?"

The engineer nodded.

"They said we wouldn't need it, but they gave it to us anyway." He swore to both officers.

"Good. Let's mount up then," Captain Jacques ordered. "I know they say this breed can't breath fire, but watch your spacing anyway." He gave the lieutenant one last instruction.

Huynh nodded before climbing into his G-Wagon with Brisebois. The convoy soon left the Academy, with many students on its walls looking at the departing vehicles with curiosity.

The drive was an uneventful ride. The countryside was quiet and peaceful, all of the bandits and Albion stragglers long behind bars or helping grass grow. Every now and then, as they drove down the dirt roads, they'd pass by civilians who'd gawk and stare at the dragon. To some of the older soldiers, it wasn't too different from a supply convoy in Afghanistan. Lot of driving on shitty roads and a lot of locals who stared. Actually, it wasn't any different from the supply convoys they usually escorted across Tristain every single week. That was a comparison all the younger soldiers would be using for the rest of their enlistment.

At least, the locals were a lot friendlier here and the place was cleaner than the sandpit of Kandahar.

It was a few hours later when they were a few miles past the the Capital when the last thing they wanted to happen did: the dragon woke up. It wasn't immediately clear with its limp body bouncing a bit on the roads, but suddenly it twisted its head in a way that was obviously deliberate.

"Oh shit!" Huynh swore as he got on the radio. "Our cargo's awake!"

"Are you sure?" The Captain radioed from the front of the convoy.

"Yes, it's starting to move! I'm looking at it moving its head right now."

"More than the head now." Brisebois warned. Now its whole body was shifting. It's wings, the most restrained part of its body, started twitching. The engineers noticed the movement in the rear mirror and confirmed it.

"Should've known intel was talking shit. Okay, we got to sedate this thing again." He issued the order and all the vehicles started to slow down as the convoy prepared to stop. It took some time, since they happened to be going down hill at the time and the semi was a cumbersome vehicle.

Suddenly, the truck carrying the dragon was engulfed in a bright light. And when it cleared, the trailer was suddenly empty.

"Aw tabarnak!" Huynh cursed as the light dissipated, "Dragon's fucking gone!" The engineer driving the truck noticed at the same time and suddenly jabbed on his brakes, bringing the large vehicle to a quick stop. Tires skidded in the dirt and it started to jackknife slightly, the now loose chains bouncing around on the uneven road.

From inside the G-Wagon, Huynh and the squad with him watched as the chains on the truck fell over the side and became entangled in the back tires. They jerked to the opposite side of the road as the truck lost control, the trailer's tires efficiently jammed with metal. It finally came to a stop in the grass a few meters off the road.

Troops jumped out of their vehicles, weapons ready just in case, and formed a quick perimeter. One of the engineers climbed onto the back of the trailer with the tranq gun, but there really was nothing there. The chains that hadn't got entangled weren't even broken. The Captain came running back to see for himself, swearing where he realized it really was gone. "Where the fuck did it go?! Did it fly off?"

"I didn't see anything fly off sir!" Huynh shouted as he looked around. There were some trees in the distance. "Maybe it's hiding in the woods?"

"We got to comb the area. Have you platoon search those woods." The Captain contacted the other platoon and got them searching the fields and down the road. Their orders were to kill on sight.

Every platoon hurried to look, fingers on the trigger and nervous as hell. They'd faced dragons before. Meanwhile, Captain Jacques was already on the radio with command.

"The package is missing. I repeat the package is missing."

The troops frantically searched the woods, their weapons hot in case if the dragon was angry; their security came before any scientist's ambitions.

"Where the fuck's that damn lizard!?" Huynh cursed as he searched with his men, "Tabarnak!"

Meanwhile, the engineers were still looking over their vehicle, confused as all hell. None of the locks were broken or undone. None of the chains had snapped. They'd all just gone limp, dangling over the side of the trailer. The only damaged ones were the ones that had gotten tangled in the wheels. The rest that had been holding the beast were fine. While they started to unfuck the situation, one heard groaning behind him and whirled around, raising his rifle.

It was coming from the long grass on the side of the road. A silhouette stumbled out of it before falling face first. It didn't get back up again.

"We got a teenage girl here!" Part of the company re-converged on the truck.

The men noticed two things: that she had blue hair… and that she was naked. And that let them see all the cuts and bruises covering her body. They were in the middle of nowhere, with no town in reasonable walking distance.

"Secure that civilian! Get her some fucking clothes!" The Captain ordered. The location was too much of a coincidence. Maybe they had something to do with the dragon disappearing. Or maybe they were just an injured local in the wrong place at the wrong time. Whatever the case, they were jumpy and they weren't taking chances.

The search resumed but to no avail; the dragon was gone. Command was losing its shit. And so were the spooks; they sent out a helicopter with guys to check things out themselves. They immediately took the unconscious girl off the soldiers' hands, and left them to get the disabled vehicle back on their own time.

* * *

They'd taken Tabitha right to the dungeons beneath the Royal Palace. They'd forced her to sit at a table with her hands restricted to the surface by heavy iron shackles. The helicopter ride here had been so fast her head barely cleared.

But after that, she was relegated entirely to the Tristainian authorities, who'd promptly locked her up at this table and left her sitting here for hours. After that, the Queen's chief bodyguard entered the room and had been interrogating her since.

"What is your real name and house?" Agnes firmly asked again, her eyes boring into Tabitha's emotionless one.

"I am Tabitha."

"Do not lie to me. My patience is wearing thin, Gallian spy."

"I am not lying." Tabitha calmly insisted. "I am Tabitha and I am only a student."

"'Students' do not correspond with the monarch of another Realm! We have a letter written by your hands that was destined for King Joseph's palace!" She slammed her palms on the table. "Do not mistake the Queen's charitability towards her subjects as weakness towards her enemies. Spies still suffer terrible fates here." The two locked eyes for a few tense moments. "Your name." She demanded again.

"Tabitha."

The door suddenly opened revealing a plain looking man. His face was emotionless as he sat down in front of her. By the look on her face, Agnes hadn't anticipated him coming in and didn't much appreciate it either.

"Good evening Ms. Tabitha," he interjected politely, "I believe we've met before."

She recognized him as the man that met with her during the hostage crisis. Unfortunately, Tabitha had forgotten his name.

"Yes."

"Do you remember my name?"

"No."

"Do you know why you are here?"

"You believe I am a spy but I am not."

Devers' eyes narrowed.

"We've intercepted a letter that you wrote and sent to the Palace of Versailles in Lutèce that detailed activity through the portal, which tells us that you are a spy for Gallia."

Tabitha blinked twice while Devers' eyes bore into her. This spy was very good at keeping her composure. It was hard to believe that she was just 16 years old.

"Let's talk about that dragon familiar of yours," Devers changed the subject, causing the Gallian mage to stiffen a bit, "We were very curious about it and were about to take it to our stronghold to conduct research on it."

Tabitha's eyes widened at what he was saying. Was that why they'd taken her? What did they plan to do?

"A little accident happened and now we can't find your dragon anymore." He calmly revealed, eyes narrowed. "A little accident involving magic." Tabitha said nothing.

"And we found someone on the scene we took into custody. And they look familiar. Tell me, 'Tabitha', who does this person look like to you?" He slid one of his world's communication devices in front of her. There was a picture on the surface. Tabitha gasped lightly as she saw an injured girl.

"Seems you know her don't you?" Devers pressed on, "She's in our custody now, far away from here. Brought some back up for your spying, did you?"

They had Sylphid and she was injured. Worse, they had her after she'd transformed into a human. If they saw her change back into a dragon...

"Shame she's out cold though. We hoped that she was more cooperative than you."

"Please," Tabitha barely whispered, her eyes starting to water slightly. She was trapped.

"Are you begging for mercy from us?" Agnes asked coldly.

"Yes, do not hurt her, please."

"Who is she?" Agnes demanded. "And who are you?"

The Gallian mage knew she was cornered so she gambled it all. Just maybe her luck would pay out. Saito had talked about these people. She'd seen them firsthand. She could get some mercy.

"I am Charlotte Hélène d'Orléans of Gallia, daughter of Charles Henri, Duc d'Orléans and Marie Héloïse, Duchesse d'Orléans, Chevalier de Norfault." Agnes and Devers' eyebrows shot up. They knew that name. That was the name of the brother King Joseph had killed.

On one hand, that was a close enough relation to explain the other. On the other hand, that was un-practically close. A member of the ruling family, a mere spy?

"I will send for her Majesty. She must hear of this." Agnes said as she opened the door and gave a quick order to a guard.

"Good idea," Devers replied before turning back to Tabitha, "What about this girl?"

"She is my familiar, Sylphid. She's not actually a Wind Dragon; She's a Rhyme Dragon. They have the ability to turn into humans. Her her real name is Illococo."

"Why did you lie?" He asked, then had an even more important question. "Did you summon her as a human?" Devers asked urgently. He secretly hoped that Tabitha wasn't another Void Mage… one that was better in control of her powers than the Vallière girl.

Tabitha lightly shook her head.

"No, she is able to shapeshift from dragon to human. Rhyme Dragons have that ability. I kept it a secret to protect her. She's a child in dragon age."

Devers jotted down that information on his notepad, circling Rhyme Dragon several times for emphasis. It wasn't a breed he knew off the top of his head, but he didn't like the sound of it. As soon as he got out of here, he'd have to tell them to up the security.

"Why are you here? Why would the King of Gallia send his niece to Tristain to spy?" Agnes asked insistently.

"I-I just want to protect my mother."

"Your mother?" Devers raised an eyebrow and looked at a perplexed Agnes. Both knew of the Duc of Orléans' death but the fate of the duchesse was never mentioned.

"Yes, my uncle holds her hostage in exchange for my loyalty," Tabitha explained. Devers and Agnes connected the dots: She was being blackmailed into spying.

"How long have you been spying for Gallia?" Agnes asked. She had a hunch about how long Tabitha was active but needed confirmation.

"Ever since I was sent here to study. My uncle exiled me so I couldn't be a threat to his rule yet still serve him."

"What else does he ask of you?" Devers continued the interrogation.

"He demands that I take on certain tasks in Gallia every now and then."

"What do these tasks consist of?"

"If there is a monster troubling a noble's lands, he sends me," Tabitha explained, "I defeat it and he allows my mother and I to live."

"And now he wanted you to come into Tristain and spy." Devers guessed. "For what purpose? You were here before the portal opened."

"I do not know." She answered.

"Has he asked to you assassinate anyone in Tristain?" Agnes icily asked, her eyes boring into Tabitha.

"No, never."

"Besides the troop movements, what have you reported on?" Devers said next.

"I have spoken about the trade that happened here and sent books about your leaders to my uncle. I also reported your leaders' visit to Queen Henrietta's coronation." Devers' eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Did you help King Joseph enter Tristain?"

"He was here? Why?" Tabitha was surprised at this declaration.

"We were hoping you'd tell us," Devers replied, "Since you were his spy."

"I did not know that he was in Tristain."

The questions stopped for a moment.

"Well, Captain de Milan, I think I will leave her to you." Devers suggested, "I've gotten what I wanted to know."

"Thank you." Her words were curt. The door opened once more, revealing Queen Henrietta. The ruler of Tristain had a neutral expression.

"Your Majesty," Agnes bowed as the queen entered.

"I have come to see the spy that has been captured today," Henrietta calmly walked in. She looked at Tabitha, gauging the younger girl. The latter didn't like being referred to as a spy by another royal. "Yes… your lineage is obvious. It seems that the members of the Gallian Royal Family have no respect for my kingdom's borders. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I am merely protecting my mother from my uncle," Tabitha pleaded, "I ask for mercy from the Queen of Tristain."

"I have not yet decided your fate," Henrietta replied neutrally as she turned away, "You have collaborated with another ruler against my kingdom. I have stayed my hand for now."

"You must understand, my mother is gravely ill. Her mind is poisoned and I am the only one who still protects her. Please, if you have any mercy, help me save her from my uncle's hands."

The Queen of Tristain never acknowledged her words as the cell door closed behind her and Devers. She just left Tabitha there under the scrutiny of the Musketeer Captain.

Tabitha was left confused and hurt. What about the outworlder and the Queen's mercy?

Moments later, Henrietta had convened an emergency council consisting of her mother, First Minister Delage, and Devers. The agent arrived last, having been on the phone to his people to up security measures.

"To think that we have captured a spy that is also a direct descendant of Brimir himself," Delage said almost incredulously, "This is incredible."

"Yes, but it also tells us that King Joseph is keeping a close eye on us," Devers pointed out, "And that he might be planning something against you. He was long before we got here."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

"He made an example out of the Orléans line," the archduchess added, "Not only did he kill the head of the family, but if that girl is telling the truth, he has also forced them into complete submission and ruin. Any Gallian noble would no doubt fear him."

"It is disturbing." Henrietta admitted. "To force other members of the Royal Family to do that. Such people are usually impossible to miss, but he forced them into obscurity."

"I had a hunch to be honest before we knew she was a spy," Devers admitted to Delage and the Duchess, "Her blue hair and the fact that she was a Gallian exchange student made me suspicious. I talked with one of the nobles on the border and got his guards to intercept the courier. We got lucky that the letter was destined for King Joseph and had solid enough content to confirm my suspicions."

"The issue now is what to do with her," Delage pointed out the elephant in the room, "We do not know how King Joseph will react to this. The Church can also intervene should he ask them and force her release. She is a descendent of the Founder, after all."

"She asked for help." Devers' explained to the other two. "She wants asylum for herself and her mother.

"Hosting members of royalty from another Blessed Realm?" Delage looked unsure. "King Joseph would certainly find fault with us." He protested. "Although I confess that the Orleans house would suffer gravely if we refuse."

"Knowing him, he'd have the girl's mother murdered," the archduchess pointed out, "And find a way to torment her with it."

"Tristain does not have time to dabble in the internal politics of another Blessed Realm." Henrietta stated. "And no desire to antagonize Gallia. As horrid her story is, I can not force myself to care for the plight of a foreign noble, especially one that has tried to undermine us." The Queen found the tale disturbing, certainly, but she was thinking of Tristain's best interest. "We will hand her back over to Gallia. Whatever happens to her afterwards is not our concern."

"I agree with you, your Majesty," Delage said, "We can avoid diplomatic entanglements with the Gallians and possibly protect ourselves from any retaliation from them for now."

"She was about to head back into Gallia anyway." Devers informed them. "Was going to take a Germanian friend with her." The three nobles perked up. "We're looking into it, still. But I don't think we're disrupting any immediate plans of theirs by sending her back. Might help our situation a little."

"Will we contact King Joseph about this directly, though?" the Archduchess wondered.

"I'm not certain if it's a good idea," Devers said, "We don't know how he will react."

Delage nodded.

"For all we know, he might have already expected this and prepared to use it as an excuse to cause more grief for us," the First Minister said, "After his appearance at the banquet, I would not be surprised if he wanted another excuse to trouble us for his own little whims. I'd advise for a discreet solution."

Henrietta nodded in agreement.

"Very well then, I want her sent back to Gallia as soon as possible and I want every border guard to know of her appearance. We cannot let her any chance to return into Tristain," the queen ordered. Delage nodded.

"I can have pictures of her sent to every border post today if need be," Devers proposed.

"Please do so," Henrietta asked, "I cannot stomach the idea of a Gallian spy operating with impunity in Tristain again."

The others nodded in agreement.

"We're glad this has come to an end." Devers affirmed. A whole goddamn year though. He wasn't sure they'd ever know the full extent of what she knew. Hell, what if she'd been spying on Colbert, since he'd had a tight knit relationship with Earth's scientific community?

Not good at all. He'd have to look into that quickly. They weren't going to try and convince their allies to hold the girl when the risk was a fucking war, but this was a bitter pill to swallow. Even if they'd caught her, she'd still gotten them good.

Then there was the dragon. Or girl. Whatever the hell it was.

"That girl had a dragon with her." He spoke up, getting everyone's attention. He should inform this of them now. "We thought it was a Wind Dragon, but it turned into a human when we tried to move it." He could already see surprised recognition appearing on everyone's faces before he was even done speaking. "Apparently it's actually something called a Rhyme Dragon."

"A Rhyme Dragon?" Henrietta repeated. "I thought those were extinct."

"As did I." Delage concerned.

"These things special just because they can turn into humans?" Devers asked.

"More than that." The Archduchess informed him. "They are highly intelligent and can even use magic. A similar kind to the elves." Ok, he was going to have to make another call for more measures.

"Right…" He said. Christ, the ethics conflict this would cause. "Well, we got it locked up at the coast now. We were going to run some tests on it, but I guess that'll have to wait. Apparently, it's only a child. But if it is smart, it might've helped in the spying in some way." He shook his head. "Hate to admit it, but we might have to send up back with the spy."

"I see." Henrietta nodded. That was a shame; she was sure having a Rhyme Dragon would make a lot of scholars' days. "Please keep it locked up until it's time to send the spy home. Child or not, I do not want it in my kingdom."

"Of course." The council broke up and everyone returned to her duties. But Henrietta sat at her desk with a hand held to her head. Her mother came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"It was a difficult decision, wasn't it?" the Archduchess asked.

"Yes. How did you-"

"Your father would do the same thing whenever he had just taken a difficult decision," Her mother said nostalgically.

"Have I done the right thing mother?" Henrietta asked, "I could have sent an innocent girl to her death, knowing King Joseph."

Her mother sighed as the Queen continued.

"I was doing what I needed to defend my people and that this is part of my duty as Queen but I cannot help but think that I chose a lesser evil here."

"Your empathy towards the less fortunate and even your enemies is commendable and you make me proud. Your father would be proud. But you can't help every wayward soul you meet, as I'm sure you just realized. You did what you had to do to protect our people and our lands, my daughter," Archduchess Marianne comforted, "Tristain is still healing from Reconquista's invasion. To provoke Gallia would have brought more tragedy and sorrow to us and our people."

"I do not trust the Mad King. If a man can inflict such cruelty upon his own blood, what could he do to people he considers his enemies?"

"I do not wish to ever learn of how far can he go." Her mother admitted.

"With the Founder's blessing and our allies' at our side, I hope so too."

* * *

Rather than the commander of the Tristainian Army, he was now Marshal du Poitier. After the unfortunate demise in battle of Admiral de Châteauneuf, a new officer had taken full command of the Tristainian Navy, however small it currently was. Admiral de Boeck had been promoted after his exploits during the battle of Tristainia and the fact that he was the senior most officer in the Navy still alive and in fighting shape.

Both men had arrived at Clement-sur-Mer early one early April day. Momentum for the invasion was building. More and more troops for the Royal Army were finishing their training and being armed. Focus was shifting from actually creating the Army to the logistics of getting it into Albion. That's why they'd planned this meeting, to discuss arrangements. Thousands of men and thousands of pounds of supplies were going to pass through here.

Both men were interested in seeing the sailors in training, first. The base was making use of all the housing it'd built for them for once, rather than just enough to fill part of the barracks. The classes were a mix of pre-war sailors who hadn't been trained before the invasion happened and new people who'd joined up after.

They could see groups of men outside the main fence being led through physical training by instructors from Earth and older veterans or heading to various building for theoretical classes. Uniforms and armor was becoming more and more standardized amongst the slowly rebuilding Tristainian Navy as the new generation of fighting sailors were learning a more balanced way of operation..

"Welcome gentlemen." a familiar voice caught their attention. It was Colonel Roberts from the Canadian Army, "Congratulations on your promotions."

"Thank you Colonel." de Boeck replied simply. He couldn't brag about his accomplishments when he hadn't exceeded anyone to gain them.

"Colonel Hamilton will join us shortly." Roberts reported, "He is finishing up some work."

"I understand," du Poitier said, "I can imagine what he was to do ever since the war ended and the Invasion of Albion had been announced."

"Yes. We're working hard to make the relief to Albion as smooth as possible," the Colonel explained, "Would you like to see the preparations we've made?"

"But of course."

The three officers began touring the base, visiting the various training groups, supply dumps and other facilities. The US and Canada had erected dozens of basic metal shelters on a portion of the land outside the main fence, enough to hold thousands of troops. "For layover." Colonel Roberts explained.

They were also shown warehouses full of medical supplies. "We'll be offering full medical support to the coalition during the invasion. This is everything we've collected so far."

"Impressive." du Poitier acknowledged. "I am very grateful." The older man had so far not asked any question about what arrangements they had for their own combat soldiers. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, as they say.

Colonel Hamilton joined the party after half an hour, and the talk got more technical. The American was very adamant about the conduct he expected from the Tristainian troops that would be staying on what was technically his base. Where they could do, how he expected them to interact with the American and Canadian troops, and how they would react to any breeches. They were entirely reasonable, even slightly less stringent then the rules the sailors in training had to abide by, and the Colonel made it clear some things would still be tolerated out of cultural consideration. Both were committed to compromising to make things work.

It was during these conversations that a training group passed them and a Tristainian sailor stepped out, causing a scene involving themselves, the Canadian leading the group, and the MPs escorting the senior commanders. When that confusion settled, the sailor introduced himself as a member of a minor Tristainian noble house, insisting he speak urgently to du Poitier and the Admiral. Whatever it was, it was apparently important enough that the more seniors nobles quickly forgave the younger man for making a scene.

"Colonel." du Pointer turned to Hamilton, his tone shifted. "We have just heard the most outrageous claim from one of our sailors." The rest of the training group had not hung around for long, and the one who'd stepped out was being escorted back by MPs.

"What claim, General?"

"That man claims to have seen an elf here!" The Tristainian officer said it like it was the most ridiculous thing imaginable, but his gaze was anything but joking. "Is that true?" The intelligence agencies had been doing their damndest to keep the Tristainian trainees away from all the orphans here. Someone must've dropped the ball.

"General, this is a military base. The only people here are our soldiers, and there are no elves in our world to recruit. Where does he claim to have seen one?"

"One of my sailors was grievously injured in an accident and he helped carry him to your healers. He says he saw an elf with a small child in that building." If someone had been injured, obviously they'd be taken directly to get first aid. And if a child was getting a checkup or something, odds are that half-elf girl would be there too as their caretaker...damn.

Murphy's Law at work.

"Gentlemen, I assure you there's no elf as this base." Only a half-elf, so it technically wasn't a lie. Those spooks would probably think it was clever. Both Tristainians still looked very disturbed by what should have been just regular 'scuttlebutt', Hamilton believed the term was.

He had discussed this matter with the spooks before, and they'd made the assurance that the girl at least would be off base before it started filling up with even more Tristainians. Hopefully after this, they'd get it done earlier.

Fortunately, their guests understood there were more important things, and the tour continued. By the end of the day, there was a far better understanding on both sides for how this would go.

But no one forgot that little five minute interaction.

* * *

When the US and Canada decided to host the Germanian Emperor, they decided to play it just like welcoming Tristain, only with less skepticism. Rideau Hall was already set up to receive their important guest. The usual security was already in place as well as the media. While the Germanian Emperor had been notified that it would be best to speak in English, Albionian for him, Canada had still produced German translators to make sure there was no room for misunderstanding. Not everything was perfect however...

April in Montreal was a horribly wild card. It could be either very warm, or very cold with the weather easily shifting from miserably cold to unbearingly hot almost overnight or even within a few hours of daylight.

Unfortunately for the Germanian delegation, it was a dreadfully cold day as they arrived in the city. Power outages paralyzed the outskirts of the city after ice storms had damaged the power lines but fate had been kind enough to spare Montréal. Proud horses drew their carriage into Montréal's portal area though the weather but it was rapidly showing that the harsh climate was taking its toll. With traffic so regular, the snow build up wasn't that bad. But the cold was clearly biting into the massive steeds pulling the carriage and carrying the knights guarding it.

Hundreds had flocked to the part not only to see Germanians, but also their Prime Minister. Trudeau had come personally to welcome the foreign head of state. Trump, meanwhile, was already waiting in Ottawa. Police were of course heavily present, and the RCMP and Sureté du Québec was out in force to protect their Prime Minister.

The carriage came to a halt. The Imperial Watch dismounted before placing themselves in formation around their Emperor's carriage. Their banners flew proudly in the wind while their armour, shields and weapons shone against the cold sunlight of a long winter.

If they were cold, it didn't show.

One walked to the carriage's door and rapt on it before stepping back. A moment later, it swung open, and Emperor Albert III of Germania stepped down and onto the crisp, white Canadian soil adorned in a heavy fur coat. Upon seeing each other, while the cameras in the distance flashed, Trudeau and Albert approached each other over the cleared ground, security following behind each.

"Welcome to Canada, your Imperial Majesty," the Canadian Prime Minister greeted.

"Thank you for your welcome," Albert III replied as he recognized Trudeau's face from the pictures had seen of the man at the Embassy set up in Vindabona. They were definitely more accurate and lifelike than anything his court painters could produce. The man was taller than he'd expected too for someone soft looking, nearly the Emperor's own height.

"Was the trip here difficult?" Trudeau asked as both men began to walk. His guards and retinue carrying all his luggage followed behind. This time, Canada had been sure to bring enough vehicles for even his large guard detail. The translators were quick to explain everything and keep things going smoothly, and the few Germanians that spoke English were cooperative as they could be.

"Nothing out of the ordinary. Traversing to another world was far easier than I expected," Albert answered, "Though I must admit that I am reticent in leaving my carriage and horses here." They had explained to him ahead of time the travel arrangements, the same Henrietta had used. Some of Albert's guard would be staying with the steeds and carriage.

"You have nothing to fear. Some of our finest caretakers will take care of your horses."

"Wonderful. Perhaps once we are done with business, I would like to speak with them."

Trudeau looked at him curiously.

"Why?"

"I enjoy raising racehorses in my rare moments of free time and used to race with other nobles when I was younger. I am fond of the creatures."

"I understand why you would like to speak to them. We have many skilled veterinarians here in Canada. Maybe we can even extend our trade to animal care."

"I would like that." The Emperor said. He noted the large crowd at the park's edge. "Your guards must be excellent if you can stand with such a large crowd nearby."

"Ah, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and Sureté du Québec do an excellent job but I don't worry about this very much. I have the respect of Canada's citizens."

"As good a shield as any armor, if you're a ruler."

"Exactly," Trudeau replied as the cameras began to flash, "Don't worry about the flashing, it's my reporters who are taking pictures to immortalize this historical moment."

"I've seen the pictures of you and President Trump at your embassies. I admit that I had trouble believing that they were that lifelike and authentic."

"I can understand. Even people here sometimes have trouble believing them."

Albert chuckled lightly.

"I hope that the weather isn't too hard for you, your Imperial Majesty," Trudeau asked as they entered a limousine. The Emperor's guards were sharing several SUVs with Trudeau's own security. Everyone was watching the other.

"I have seen many harsh Germanian winters, but none as fierce as that!" He tried to laugh it off as he followed, "Your people must be very tough."

"Indeed we are, but we've learned to cope." Trudeau nodded.

"Yes, I've noticed. This carriage is heated yet I don't see any furnaces."

"Indeed, we have many ways to make winters bearable. Especially this year."

"Has it been a long winter?"

"Yes and it's one the worst we've had in years," Trudeau explained as the imposing convoy began to move towards the airport. Their discussions soon turned to more technical ones, chiefly about Montréal's architecture and Canadian geography, with Trudeau promising the Emperor a globe of Earth as a gift.

"This building bares your name." The Emperor remarked once they arrived at the airport.

"No, that would be my father's name." Trudeau corrected.

"Your father was Prime Minister as well?"

Trudeau nodded.

"Yes, he was the longest serving Prime Minister of Canada and one of the best."

"We share something in common then; My father was Emperor before me."

"I heard." Trudeau said politely as the convoy pulled up outside CAN Force One. Everyone disembarked and the Emperor's guards quickly re-equipped themselves. "Although I'm curious to know how-our friends in Tristain told us it wasn't a hereditary title."

"It isn't." Albert admitted. "But there are certain advantages to be born in the right family. My father held the title and groomed me to represent our House during the Electors' council."

"Is that where the heads of Germanian families convene and elect the Emperor?"

"You are mostly correct. Rather, it is the various heads of realms that make up the Empire that meet to decide who is to be Emperor of Germania. As my family rules over the heartland of Germania and are good friends with great families like the Von Zerbst, we have great power. I am far from the only son to serve after his father."

Trudeau nodded in understanding.

"But how have you come to serve in the same position of your father?" Albert asked as both parties embarked and started to get seated. "I admit, your governments confuse me, what little I've heard of them."

"The Prime Minister of Canada is elected by the people. Elections are normally held every four years to choose the new Prime Minister or it can happen earlier if the Prime Minister and his party are weak."

"Weak?"

"We have two levels of government- one that oversees the country as a whole, and the local ones that oversee each one of our provinces. The core of the Canadian government is the Parliament. It is where political parties or different factions, work to enact new laws and policies for the whole of Canada. Certain matters are retained by the local governments, though."

"And where do you fit in this?"

"As Prime Minister, my party is the one that holds the most seats in Parliament. The seats are held by the Members of Parliament who are chosen by the Canadian people during the elections. Currently, the Liberal Party that I lead holds the absolute majority in Parliament so we can enact any policy or law we choose through the various ministers that I've picked from my party."

"I presume that if you lose the majority of seats, you lose power?"

"Yes and no. If I still have more seats than any other party but all the opposition parties have more seats together, I will have a minority government but will remain in power. If my party loses the majority of the seats then I will lose power to whoever has the majority of the seats."

"Fascinating, I must say. I am impressed that commoners in Canada have so much power." Albert replied, "I can't imagine what would happen if the people choose a terrible man to lead the country."

"While I do not agree with all the decisions of my predecessors, I believe that they led Canada with the best of intentions," Trudeau replied, "Without their leadership, Canada wouldn't be where it is today."

Albert smirked.

"Perhaps your system does suit your nation well then. May I tell you about the Germanian electors then?"

"Yes, you may," Trudeau replied, "It is one thing to hear about it from my ambassadors but it is another to hear it from the Emperor of Germania."

"There are many families who control their own factions of allied realms. They spent years to build their powerbase and alliances in order to gain the Imperial Throne when the Emperor dies or abdicates," Albert explained, "When the Emperor dies, the Electors convene to discuss who should rule over Germania. It is a moment where each major faction tries to gain the final amount of influence through negotiations in order to claim the throne."

"An interesting system," Trudeau said, "It reminds me of the Holy Roman Empire of old."

"Pardon me?"

"There was an Empire almost a thousand years ago that worked on a similar principle."

"Really? Do tell me more."

"I'm afraid that I'm not well-versed enough in its history to give it justice," Trudeau admitted. "Perhaps I can find you a history book on the matter."

"I would appreciate it. Otherwise, I would like to know something."

"Go ahead?"

"Does Canada and the United States still race horses? You referred to your guard corps back there as 'Mounted'. I was under the impression your forces used those metal carriages."

"Our armies still use horses for ceremonial duties and the RCMP has kept its name out of tradition," Trudeau explained, "But we no longer ride them into battle."

"They must be hardy steeds if they can survive in your country's cold weather."

"Indeed they are. As for racing, it is a sport our richer citizens enjoy. We have many different styles of horse racing and riding."

"Really? I would like to learn about this."

"The weather means they aren't being held at this time of year, but we'll try and find some material." Trudeau offered. He admittedly wasn't sure if his country had any trade with Germania on the subject of horses. Germania was a mineral and metal powerhouse, but obviously they were nowhere near the Canadian mining industry, and a disruption wasn't happening. Trade with Germania was still imbalanced in Earth's favor.

"Do you ride horses, Prime Minister Trudeau?" Albert asked with a smile, "Perhaps we could race each other one day."

"I'm afraid that I'm not much of a racer though I know how to ride one."

"A shame really. Perhaps I could teach you some day." Albert chuckled lightly.

"I would like to learn."

A staff member appeared in front of both men and introduced himself.

"M. Prime Minister, Emperor Albert, we are about to take off," he announced. "It might be an unusual sensation, but rest assured, it is very safe." The same explanation and assurance was given to the Emperor's retinue and guards.

"I spoke to Queen Henrietta and she told me about these." The Emperor revealed. "I don't suppose I can buy one?" Trudeau smiled politely.

"They are very expensive to say the least and I doubt that you would be able to maintain such a machine. Even if we could fit one through the portal."

"I am certain that Germanian mages are going to be able to understand what powers this machine!" Albert boasted, "How fast will we reach your capital of Ottawa?"

"It should be no longer than an hour." His host assured. "Tell me more about yourself. I'm curious about what kind of man can rule such a vast Empire."

* * *

The two men enjoyed small talk with the other about their political careers during the hour long flight before the plane touched down in Ottawa. The weather, though still chilling to the bone, was a little more pleasant then Montreal. There was vetted media waiting when the plane stopped, and they got some good shots of the Emperor's imposing guards marching down the stairs ahead of the man.

Everyone embarked on another long convoy of vehicles and made their way to Rideau Hall, past another curious group of citizens lining the streets. "Are we in a different province?"

"Yes, the city you arrived in was part of the Province of Québec. This city is in the province of Ontario though it is close to the border with Québec."

"Each boasts a city large enough to be the Capital of a whole country. I had heard, but understandably I did not fully believe. Now that I have seen it, I am jealous. No ruler in Halkegenia could ever aspire to control so much. A country could never exist in such large parts. Once a city or province becomes large enough to field an army, its destiny is its own."

"We find a way," Trudeau replied simply.

"The United States is the same way?" He asked. "They are a realm of 50 kingdoms all together, I was told."

"Something like that." Trudeau nodded. "When we arrive, I'm sure M. Trump will be more than willing to explain it to you. Actually, I believe we're already there."

"I am looking forward to meeting him then." Albert said as the limousine came to a halt before Rideau Hall. "Is this Rideau Hall? The place where your Queen stays when she visits Canada?"

"Yes, yes. President Trump is already waiting for us here with his party," Trudeau as one of his guards opened the limousine's doors.

Both exited before their guards surrounded them. With the civilian crowd much closer this time, the Imperial Watch was obviously more on edge, being unused to such proximity with the commoners.

"Tell your guards not to worry, your Imperial Majesty!" Trudeau exclaimed, "I do this all the time!"

"I'm afraid that it will take some time for my men to get used to it," Albert replied as they entered Rideau Hall. As they entered, staff took away their coats before guiding them to the main hall. The Imperial Watch followed, their heavy footsteps resounding in the hallway as they marched in defense of their Emperor.

Entering the main hall, they could see Trump waiting for them. The Germanian emperor noticed how tall he was as well, though he was less surprised. Trump was the leader of the most powerful realm on Earth; it was only fitting that he was an imposing man. He was about the same height as Trudeau but more broad shouldered.

"Welcome to Earth, Emperor Albert!" Trump greeted as he walked to shake hands with him.

"Thank you for your welcome, President Trump. I was very impatient to meet the merchant who became ruler of a powerful nation!"

Trump grinned as both men walked up to him. Trudeau guided both men so that the press could take pictures of this historical moment.

"Now that we are all together, I have brought gifts!" The Emperor informed them, and he turned around to bark something in German to two armed members of his retinue. Both came forward and handed their weapons to the Emperor. "Weapons, fit for mighty rulers such as yourselves." He held them out in each hand. They were two giant two-headed battle axes. The handles were sleek and black, and the heads shiny, almost silver steel.

The cameras clicked and the Secret Service detail watched with some concern as Trump reached out to take one.

"This is wonderful!" Trump exclaimed as he picked it up and felt its heft. "Thank you, this gift is very much appreciated. The American people will love to see it!"

"I am happy to hear that," Albert replied before looking at Trudeau who was still trying to wrap his head around getting a two-headed battle axe, "Are you impressed, M. Trudeau?"

"Yes… yes. This is the first time that I get such an impressive gift." Trudeau answered somewhat nervously. Though the Prime Minister was (in)famous for imitating his hosts' habits and dress, those were across a wide gap from handling a giant axe.

"Haha. Indeed, it is not everyday that one is gifted one of the finest Germanian war axes," Albert declared loud enough for the reporters to hear, "But your realms were prestigious enough that I had them personally commissioned for you from the finest magesmiths in Germania."

"Thank you, I am certain that this gift will be well appreciated."

If anything, the Germanian Emperor's gift was good press for his Empire on Earth.

* * *

The publicity over, they all moved to handle the matter at hand. All three's security was spread evenly throughout the building, and they took up residence in the exact same room they'd conversed with Henrietta in over a year ago. It was Trump, Trudeau, Albert, and the Emperor's elderly chamberlain, Johan.

The gifts had been taken by assistants to both North American leaders. They'd be decorations in D.C and Parliament before the week was up.

"You wanted this meeting badly from what my people say, and now here we are." Trump started. "Is this about trade? Security?"

"Trade is booming." The Emperor shook his head. "Many merchants are getting rich off of selling goods from your lands, and my people are enamored with getting their hands on more." Then he got serious. "I have come here for the subject of war though. It is a thing I do not trust to indirect messengers or middle men. It can be diluted, intercepted, or withheld." The man said grimly. "Just as I insisted to discuss with Henrietta, I insist to discuss with you both. I believe we all have a common enemy in Gallia."

His hosts were a little more guarded after the admission. "If you're looking for an offensive alliance against Gallia, you aren't going to get one. They may be trying to bully us, but we do not see that as a cause for war." Trump stated flatly, and Trudeau shook his head in agreement.

"I see," he replied, hiding any disappointment he had. Even though he had a solid idea of how these people worked, he'd had a slimmer hope that things could be different with him. He was not Henrietta, after all. An intelligent and compassionate child, but a child still.

"We are not interested in getting involved in Halkegenia except for the defense of our borders as well as our friends and allies," Trudeau stated.

"So I presume that you have chosen to help the Tristainians for that reason then?" Albert asked.

"Yes, it was a curious occurrence that made that portal appear in our respective countries but it was through trust and hard work that Tristain, Canada and the United States became friends and defensive allies," Trudeau answered honestly.

"I can understand that reasoning, but I think our realms have more in common than the Blessed Realms," Albert replied, "I believe that you do not discriminate on birth when it comes to opportunity? That a commoner can become a respected person?"

Trump nodded.

"One of the very founding principles of America. My father and I built our wealth because we took opportunities when we got them."

"Canada gives every one of its citizens the tools they need to succeed in their lives and helps them when they needed," Trudeau added.

"Respectable. Such language is laughed at in Halkegenia, but I will not bore you with what you already know. My point is: we are different in many ways, but no so different in others. And it is because of those things that I think we should re-examine the relationship between our nations."

"At the moment, the only thing we're willing to negotiate on is trade," Trump blocked the man again.

"Trade is just another way to gain a defensive advantage. Prosperity is just another means of building power" The Emperor shrugged. "If I can go back home having doubled our trade with this world, I will go home happy, appreciated, and having accomplished part of what I wanted."

Doubled? That was big numbers, cause both Trump and Trudeau to raise their eyebrows.

"Germania still has a lot to give...if you have the coin. I'm certain your acquisition of wealth has been held back in Tristain by some of their society's restrictive norms. Things I assure you Germania does not have. We are _very_ open to new ways of doing things unlike the Blessed Realms, and I'm sure you have a lot of that you'd be willing to share."

Both the US and Canada were holding back their own business people on purpose, to avoid exploitation. And a lot of others were weary of doing business because of the distance and lack of political/policing cooperation.

But their guest here seemed like he'd be willing to make some changes to get those weary people in. If their own governments encouraged them, there could be a big expansion of trade. And it had its advantages. If Germania was reliant on them for more trade, they could very well be influenced by either nation to play nice with the neighbors, especially Tristain.

But if Germania wanted this only so they could get rich to fund their war machine, that was just as bad as trying to get a military alliance. Yet at the same time, it could deter Gallia. There were a lot of pros and cons to something like this.

"We could easily sponsor more of our business people to talk to you," Trump suggested, "They'd appreciate talking with business savvy people like yourself."

"I hope you understand, though," Trudeau interjected, "Building our connections further is done so on trust that Germania will not exacerbate any situations in Halkegenia." Trudeau warned.

"I understand but as Emperor of Germania, I am in charge of the Empire's defense," Albert countered, "If the other realms attack my lands, I will defend myself."

"We get that. A nation has a right to protect its borders. But we do not encourage needless aggression against others." Trudeau sternly stated. "We have transcripts of the dinner meeting King Joseph interrupted. Forgive us for saying this, but by the sound of it Germania exacerbated the situation."

"A man that unhinged only understands one language." Albert calmly said, "He is a warmonger and a murderer protected by the Church. It is precisely the reason I decided to come here and speak. We've already agreed Gallia is a danger. I don't believe either of you will protest to say my statement about him is false."

Trump and Trudeau looked at each other. The transcript and testimonies from the banquet gave them a good grasp of the situation and tension between the two powerhouses of Halkegenia… but they had to choose their words carefully. They agreed with Albert… but they didn't want to empower the Emperor into antagonizing Gallia either. It was a risky set of dominos.

"We agree that Joseph is a wild card to say the least," Trudeau finally said, "But unless he directly threatens our interests, we will not intervene. Since a war would damage Tristain and our own interests, we hope that Germania will not seek needless conflict either unless it is absolutely necessary."

Albert could read these two well. He could see what had happened in Tristain. He could already assume what these men would want of Germania, and he knew what Germania could gain from them.

And in his mind, it was a trade off in his favor.

"I will never endeavor to invade Gallia. For whatever I may gain, I most certainly would lose more. I would love nothing more than for Gallia to be a more friendly nation."

"Then we all find common agreement." Trudeau nodded.

"That is great." Albert nodded. "I consider it an improvement in our relations already!" Maybe they thought they were hardwalling him, but Albert was feeling on top. He'd never have gotten any such language from anyone in Halkegenia. But he had a mind to push further.

"And uh…" The Emperor leaned forward. "What do your nations think of the Church?"

"What does Germania think of the Church?" Trudeau asked in response. The Germanian Emperor scoffed.

"They looked down on us for centuries, always mocking our greatest achievements as backwards and calling us barbarians even as the Empire flourished, all because we didn't want to live under the Church and the rules it set. Those were the founders of the Empire: mages and commoners who left the Blessed Realms. And when they realized we wouldn't die out, they decided to bully us instead. When the Crusades came, they pressured us into sending men and supplies by threatening us."

"I see and I understand why my ambassador said that Inquisitor Badoglio was rather… rude to you."

"Yes. We Germanians are appreciated by very few in our own world. I can not overstate how pleasant it has been to find friends who do not look back at the Church every day for approval."

"We're our own people with our own values. If you're good to us, we don't care what other countries think of you." Trump explained.

"I can understand that as well," Trudeau replied, "But I assure you, what the Church thinks will not impact relations between our nations. We value hard work and effort before what other nations thinks of you."

"Excellent," Albert III replied, "I have heard many things about your world, and so far many of them have been true." He leaned forward. "Let us continue being direct as we always have been, then. All three of us-we are outsiders to the Church. We are all scrutinized. It is best that we all stick together. The same as the situation with Gallia, is it not?"

Both America and Canada have had interest in Germania as a non-Church affiliated ally, but they hadn't expected Germania itself to be so upfront about it.

"Yes," Trudeau replied, "I would not be surprised if they have been watching us ever since we arrived in Tristain."

"Typical," Albert scoffed, "The Church has sent spies into Germania for centuries, looking for any way of weakening our lands and lords."

"Has Germania been able to stop them?" Trump asked, disgust very obvious in his voice.

"Sadly, it is difficult. Many of these spies are missionaries or part of a missionary's retinue as well and we can't openly get rid of them without the Church complaining."

"I should clarify we have no desire for open conflict with the Church of Romalia either." Trudeau quickly mentioned.

"I do not either." Albert shook his head. "But I do not trust the Church's words. My father has always taught to be wary of their intentions. They may preach peace between the Blessed Realms but Germania is barely tolerated in the other courts. Do you know what their intentions are with your nations?"

"The Papacy seems quite eager in engaging with diplomacy and trade with us," Trump answered, "From what our consuls tell us, Pope Vittorio wants peace with us."

"I am not surprised that he said that," Albert said, "That is what the Church claimed when they first met with us after Germania was formed. No doubt he will use it as a way to send missionaries to convert your people to his faith."

"I doubt they will be successful," Trump snorted, "Besides, I'm not letting preachers coming to the US." This was good, Albert thought. They seemed far more opinionated on the Church than Gallia. Even though Gallia was Germania's chief concern now, this was still too fine an opportunity to pass up.

"I just want to be sure we all agree." The Emperor tried to sound harmless. "That the Church's honeyed words are something we should all be cautious of."

The two North American leaders nodded. The Emperor grinned to himself. "That is good."

That was not the end of the visit. They continued to talk for hours on how trade and other things could be expanded. And there was a reception later that night that allowed the Germanian Emperor to mingle with a few Commonwealth and other allied representatives that were in the city. It was serious at times, with matters of trade and diplomacy being discussed, while other times were more laid back, with discussions about sports, arts and culture being discussed.

But that moment was, in all sides' minds, the peak of the visit. The most important matters discussed and settled. At that point, everyone had gotten more or less what they wanted and the rest was just a bonus.

The balance of power in Halkegenia had been irreversibly changed a third time.

* * *

They'd held her three days before letting her go. Two days of it was sitting in a cell and worrying. No guard would tell her anything. No one came to visit. At least she was properly fed. It was the only 'kindness' she had received since the beginning.

On the last day, she got a little reprieve. The Inquisitor had heard of her plight and, as a representative of the Church, did or said something. The Romalian, still stubbornly hanging around even though they'd told him Cromwell's chances of waking up or even surviving were slim, had protested to the Queen about locking up a descendent of Brimir. Apparently her blood made her crimes less serious in his eyes.

Badoglio had threatened to bring the case to the Pope himself if Tabitha wasn't shown clemency... Henrietta, whose cautious fear of the man was turning to an ever growing annoyance with every passing day, granted it. But it was a single day and Tabitha would be leaving the morning after.

To her surprise, the Inquisitor was a pleasant host to her for that one day, even if she barely replied to a word he said. Tabitha's family may have been robbed of its claim to the throne, but she knew what the Church was like. She thought there was something iffy about the man.

None of it really mattered. She knew she was going to be stuck in Gallia for the rest of her life now. A lifetime of fighting whatever her uncle could come up with to busy her: vampires, dragons, dissidents.

Nothing more than a mere assassin until her luck ran out.

Right now, Inquisitor Badoglio was escorting her to the border. The carriage in which they rode was under heavy guard by the Musketeers as well as the Romalian's own guards. It had been a silent ride until they stopped.

"We have arrived at the Gallian border, Lady d'Orléans," the Inquisitor announced as he stood up. Both quietly exited the carriage. Tabitha felt tears welling up in her eyes as she looked at the land in front of her, but held them back with the audience beside her.

"I hope you remember what we have done for you," Badoglio coldly stated as he boarded the carriage again.

Suddenly, the Gallian mage heard a familiar voice, half-sobbing, half cheering. As soon as she'd seen Tabitha, Illococoo had run other to hold her tightly, crying about all the 'mean men who jabbed her with needles, didn't feed her enough food and wouldn't let her put any clothes on' before turning back and blowing a raspberry at the men who'd brought her there who looked back indifferently before they got back into their transports.

A lone carriage awaited for them nearby, bearing the Royal Seal. They must've informed her uncle of her arrival. Both girls got in.

"I wish to travel to the Orléans domain," Tabitha asked the driver through the window. There was no answer as the carriage began to move down the road.

"It was awful!" Illococoo was still talking. "They had me tied down on this carriage, so I turned into a human to escape! Then they stopped suddenly and it threw me off! It really hurt!"

"That was dangerous." Tabitha told her. "I told you not to change if someone can see you."

"But I was worried! The mean men could have hurt you too! I had to do something to help you, big sis."

"They didn't and now everyone knows our secret," Tabitha sighed. Maybe she was being too hard. They'd said they wanted to 'examine' Sylphid. Tabitha had no idea what that meant. They could've hurt her badly. Maybe the revelation she was human had helped.

Illococoo pouted, but Tabitha just stared out the window. They'd taken all her books away; anything she'd had from Earth. All she had left to do was watch the passing scenery.

So she noticed that when the carriage reached a crossroad, it took a wrong turn.

"Excuse me," Tabitha spoke up, "But that is not the way to the Orléans domain."

The driver seemed to ignore her words.

"You took a wrong turn," she pleaded, "This is the way to…"

The words died in her mouth.

"What's happening Big sis?" Illococoo asked, a hint of worry in her voice. It grew as Tabitha remained silent and slumped in her seat, defeat evident on her features.

"Big sis?" the familiar asked as she held the silent girl her arms, "W-what's going on? I don't like this."

But there would be no answer for the rest of the trip.

* * *

A lone carriage pulled into the front gate of the Palace of Versailles. The large building was foreboding with its imposing walls. Night had fallen on Gallia, with the torches making the Gallian palace look even more intimidating to any visitor.

The first passenger disembarked, shivering with every step and feeling dread in every part of her being, followed by another, who was powerless, not understanding what was happening. The sound of the carriage leaving broke the silence as both girls walked towards the ominous doors of the Palace.

The doors swung open, bright light coming out. However, a single, large figure blocked off the shining lights by its presence. Tabitha's heart raced even more

"Good evening, my dear niece," Joseph said neutrally, "You are late."

Tabitha remained silent, not wanting to provoke the madman in front of her.

"It is a shame that your schooling in Tristain had to end like that," he continued, "I must admit that I did not expect a letter from the Church telling me that they had to free you from a dungeon in Tristainia after you were caught spying."

"Tsk tsk. Are you getting careless now little girl?" another feminine voice cut in, "Here I thought that you were actually skilled."

Tabitha recognized the familiar voice of Sheffield as the older woman exited the palace and stood next to Joseph with a disdainful look on her face.

"Leave big sis alone!" Illococoo suddenly shouted.

"Silence beast!" Sheffield ordered, "Unless if you want to be apart from your master!"

"Calm down Illococoo," Tabitha quietly asked. She didn't want to be separated from the one person she had left.

"Found your voice little girl?" Sheffield mocked.

"Silence." Joseph ordered as his eyes narrowed on Tabitha, "You may return to your home but none may come with you and your familiar. You may not leave the Orléans manor unless if you want to forfeit your and the duchess's lives."

"After failing at such a simple job, you should be thankful that's all." Sheffield sneered. Tabitha bowed her head. "I think, My Lord," Sheffield leaned forward and lifted Tabitha's chin up, "Little Charlotte here started to like Tristain."

Joseph was silent, his mind deep in thought.

"Perhaps she might see Tristain once more." Tabitha's eyes shot over to her uncle, but his face was inscrutable.

"Maybe even sooner than you think, my dear niece." He said, and Tabitha connected the dots rather quickly. It was no different than him sending her afters dragons or vampires. He knew she was a criminal in Tristain now and would most certainly be killed. That was the intention. It always had been. She'd never found out how sending her to the Academy was part of it, but she was sure it had been.

"You may now leave, little Charlotte," Joseph said uncaringly as he turned his back to Tabitha. He walked back up the stairs to the Palace doors. Sheffield pinched her cheek and tutted at her to stay out of trouble before following. Another carriage appeared, ready to carry her back to the Orléans domain. Tabitha felt an icy stare on her as she boarded the carriage with Illococoo. Looking out, she could see her older cousin Isabelle had even come to stand in the Palace doorway and stared at her briefly before closing the doors.

That mask of stoicism that she'd carried for so long that had started cracking in the last few days finally broke. Tears rolled unashamedly down her face as Illococoo tried her best to cheer her up, to no avail.

How would she get out of this?

 **Authors' endnotes: Well someone's luck ran out… Hope you enjoyed it and strap yourselves for a bumpy ride eh? Don't forget to review and see you next chapter!**


	23. Chapter 21: The Infernal Clock

**Author's Note: We've made some revisions to the last chapter to keep it more in line with franchise lore.**

 **Super sorry about the long delay… work was demanding and it was a hard chapter to write. The next chapter will take no where near as long. Hopefully.**

 **The Infernal Clock**

A single large carriage carried by several horses rolled down the dirt road of the des Ornières domain, the Vallière family banner fluttering in the cold breeze. Inside were the two heads of the family and their youngest daughter, all considerably dressed up and the last looking the most uncomfortable of the lot.

Duke Vallière and Duchess Vallière looked out their carriage's window as it rode through the peaceful countryside. Normally, winter was not a time to be planting crops, but they could see the fields usually filled with grape vines were now growing other crops. Crops that either had an easier time growing in winter, or that Earth had created specifically for growing in winter. They would have to inquire about such crops next time they were in the Capital.

Besides that, there were a few other things that certainly looked otherworldly. The Viscount seemed to be embracing everything wholeheartedly. The Duke and Duchess wished their daughter had such enthusiasm. While she'd been taking her classes, she neither had made the effort or had the ambition to visit the lands in question more than a few times, as was appropriate for a noble. Lucky for her, her parents had already set things up like tax/tribute. No, Louise would much rather spend her time in these lands with the Viscount.

And the Duke and Duchess had very complex thoughts on that matter. They were not fools-they knew very well their daughter and that boy had some form of affection for each other. Half a year ago, they'd find such a fact abhorrent. And half a year ago, either would've cut that boy down at the slightest provocation towards them or Louise.

But things were different now. Louise was a defined Void Mage, her standing in the Kingdom (and the continent) set in stone. Cattelya was in far better health. The two greatest sources of stress in their lives were gone, and the world looked just a little sunnier. And between this business with the other world and the invasion, Saito had proven himself worthy of some respect.

SOME. He was still an unconventional character. But neither would ruin their reputation by not admitted that the Vallière family was slightly indebted to him for his deeds. Deeds focused mainly on protecting Louise, but deeds nonetheless.

But that wasn't a reason to throw common sense to the wind. While they'd constantly threatened to marry Louise off due to her perceived magical ineptness, threats that in hindsight did cause some mild guilt, it did not mean they would let their daughter go to the first man who walked by.

The last time they had done so, it almost spelled disaster for their youngest daughter. Wardes turned out to be a traitor and a dangerous husband for her… the nearly successful brainwashing that Louise almost experienced was a barely averted nightmare. While the Vallières never were able to confirm the traitor's death, they had a solid hunch that he had fallen in battle and tossed in a mass grave indiscriminately with the other invaders.

A fitting end for such a man.

While Viscount Hiraga was a seemingly better man, despite his common birth, both parents simply couldn't blindly trust him. He was still young and, like any man of his age, prone to youthful impulses. Both could secretly be happy if their daughter found someone to marry purely out of love, but in their world and their society, there was more to it than just that, unfortunate or not. He had proven himself reliable and loyal so far but like any parents, the duke and duchess had their protective streaks. They were not fully convinced.

The reason they were in these lands today with their daughter was actually related to the subject. She'd been usually insistent on travelling to see Viscount Hiraga again, and the reason eventually came out it was because Viscount Hiraga's parents were coming from the other world to see their son and Louise. It was the perfect opportunity to gauge what kind of family he hailed from, and one they might get tied by marriage.

The carriage pulled into the manor, its older occupants looking at the grounds. Éléonore had mentioned the Viscount didn't invest much in groundcare, and she'd clearly been right. The manor, by contrast, didn't look neglected. It looked clean. It looked like it had been renovated. And there were…'things' hanging on the house. They couldn't really place what they were, so they assumed it was something from Earth.

Saito had heard the carriage coming and came out the front door dressed casually with jeans and a hoodie. He seemed surprised to see a larger carriage than usual and surrounded by guards. Louise hurried out of the carriage before the driver even got down to open the doors and up to Saito, who blinked in surprise to see her more dressed up for a formal function.

"Hey Louise! Why are you-"

The Tokyo teen suddenly saw his girlfriend's parents. His eyes widened before clearing his throat.

"Greetings Lady Vallière. I welcome you and your family to Des Ornières," he greeted more formally before he walked over to the duke and duchess, "Welcome to Des Ornières, Duke Vallière and Duchess Vallière. I was not expecting your presence today."

Saito hoped that the etiquette practice he got helped him look better. Both seemed indifferent at him.

"Thank you for your welcome, Viscount," the duke replied politely, "I see that you have taken great care of your lands."

"I am doing what is needed to help my people," Saito explained.

"Have your parents arrived yet?" Duchess Vallière asked, "We wish to meet them as well."

Saito blanched as he understood. He glanced over at Louise who had an apologetic look on her face.

"They have not yet arrived but may I entertain you?" he suggested, "My maid is already busy preparing food for us."

"Please, we would appreciate it, Viscount," Louise said as they entered the manor, "What is she preparing for us?"

"Some cooking from my homeland," Saito answered, getting the curiosity of the duke and duchess.

"What kind of meal does your homeland have?" Duchess Vallière asked.

"We have a lot of different foods but most of it is based around fish and rice."

"Rice?"

"It's a kind of grain." Saito was trying to figure out how to explain as basic as rice, "It goes well with many foods so that's why we like it in Japan."

"I see." The nobles also took notice of how the interior decoration was done. It was simple in design with functional furniture. It looked like the Embassies in Tristainia. The walls were still bare but were painted in a light blue-grey that made the rooms look bigger.

"Siesta!" Saito called out. "We have more guests! Please excuse me for a moment." He excused himself to his guests then hurried to another room. "Parlor's over there!" He leaned back in the doorway to point. Louise cringed internally then followed her parents. They were still making their observations about the furniture, none of it locally made. The house wasn't very extravagant, but it was clean.

Saito had hired Siesta. Louise didn't miss that. The last time they'd seen each other had been in the Capital. By chance, Siesta was there with her father. Something about their service to Tarbes. Her and Saito had gotten to talking, and it came up that Siesta was actually kind of bored without work. That, and her family had given away most of its newfound wealth to rebuild their home. The Academy had closed, likely for the course of the war. But Saito was looking for staff and could pay a salary. Now here they were.

"Siesta will bring drinks in a moment." Saito came in and sat down in one of the armchairs. He cleared his throat. "I hope the Vallière household is doing well."

"We are doing quite well, Viscount," the duke replied, "And how is your house doing? Reunions are meant to be joyous occasions."

"They are excited to visit des Ornières as well as seeing me again," he explained, "It has been almost 2 years since we've last seen each other."

"I can understand their excitement," Duchess Vallière said.

"Yes. May I speak with Lady Vallière in private please?" he asked pleasantly. The two adults eyed each other before Louise's father nodded.

"I shall allow it," Permission granted, Louise stood up. The two left for the next room.

"You didn't tell me they'd be here!" Saito whispered.

"I didn't know they'd want to come!" Louise hissed in a low voice. "They want to meet your parents for some stupid reason!"

"Hmm." Saito held his chin thoughtfully.

"I think this is a marriage interview." Derf popped out of his sheath and spoke in its closest approximation of a whisper.

"Wah?!" Louise didn't bother to keep her voice down.

"That would make a lot of sense." Saito realized, not as phased. "Ah, damn. My parents really aren't high society types though...hmm?" He noticed his pink-in-the-face and shaking-in-awkwardness girlfriend. "Louise?"

"M-m-marriage?!" She stuttered.

"Yeah." This wasn't the opportunity Saito expected, but it was an opportunity that was present. "I guess they just assume we're heading that way." Louise was still shaking. He moved closer to her. "We have been, haven't we? If you want to make it official-" Saito didn't get to finish that sentence due a hard knee to the gut that actually kind of hurt.

"S-shut up." The pinkette stuttered. "We're not getting married!" The pain in Saito's stomach spiked. "You haven't proposed yet. A proper proposal!" She specified. "And besides." She added, her voice quieter. "We shouldn't be making plans when the war is about to start. That's more important!" Saito groaned and glanced at the calendar he had pinned up on the kitchen wall. A local one; the months were obviously different and a Halkegenia year was just a few weeks longer than an Earth year. The invasion was just a few weeks away.

"I guess you're right…" He stood up, wheezing slightly. Really must've hit a nerve; none of her blows had actually hurt him in a long time. "Guess I'll have to think of something fancy for after we win."

"You're not supposed to spoil it! Stupid mutt." She muttered.

Saito probably should've figured out ahead of time he needed to approach the topic with more grace. But he'd tested the waters, and she hadn't said no. Arguably, she'd said 'do it properly!'. Still a good sign.

In the next room, Louise's parents, who were neither stupid or deaf, looked at each other, nodded, and pretended they hadn't overheard anything.

* * *

While that happened, an SUV drove through the countryside of Des Ornières, two of its occupants looking out in curiosity despite their nervousness, and the other looking relaxed due to the fact he'd been here before.

"This is the land that Saito's in charge of?!" Nasu asked in disbelief, "It's so big! How can he run this place if he hasn't even finished school?"

"I already told you mom," Hayate replied, slightly annoyed. They'd reunited at the first public hospital in Tristania before coming here, and in spite of everything, both parents had to gush a little, seeing their oldest as a doctor. He hadn't graduated-getting extended exemptions from his University from classes and final exams while the aid projects here happened-,but he'd wracked up nearly a hundred hours of experience even if it was as a student. He wasn't a lord like his little brother, but he'd made a career. "He got a lot of help from the American and Canadian authorities. It was one of the first things he did after the worlds hooked up. They helped him finish his education."  
"Well, he didn't graduate." The woman fumed.

"He still got a proper education," Ichika pointed out, "and it's pretty good from what I heard."

"Yeah, long distance courses from the local colleges in Quebec," Hayate added, "It's different but as good as the curriculum in Japan. I made sure he did his homework. He even got some books about business and land management. Mom, he _finished school and then signed up for more."_

Nasu sighed as she heard the facts again that day. She didn't like it even if they were right about it.

"It's a nice piece of land though," Ichika said, trying to shift the conversation as he saw a small windmill in the distance, "It's nice and quiet, I admit."

"Apparently, it used to be better before the last lord," Hayate explained as they passed over a small bridge, "After that, no one cared about the place until Saito came along. He's really trying his best to help the people here."

"Like what?" Nasu asked skeptically.

"He's paid for some of the land to be cleared up so they can grow crops and he got some people to start fixing up the roads and bridges," Hayate explained, "He's still discussing with the embassies for future plans once the winter ends."

"I'd never thought he'd be able to do something like this," Ichika said, clearly impressed.

"Me too," Hayate pointed out, "He grew up faster than I thought."

"Speaking of that… what can you tell me about his little girlfriend of his?" Nasu asked.

"Oh… Louise?"

"Yes, her." Nasu replied with a frown, "The one that kidnapped him." For all she'd probed her other son in letters and phone calls, Saito had nothing to say but nice things. He was a little _too_ happy with her, and it set off alarm bells.

"She's a good girl. A bit of a loudmouth but she cares a lot about him even if she sometimes has trouble admitting it. She didn't kidnap him since from what everyone from the secret services said, she had no idea she'd open a portal on Earth and certainly didn't plan on having him step into it." Hayate answered while his father had a knowing smile on his face, "Despite everything, she took good care of him when he came here. She made sure he was eating right, took care of him when he got injured and gave him a warm place to sleep."

His mother's eye twitched at the last words.

"Where exactly was this 'warm place to sleep'?" she asked as she remembered their first conversation, "Is it her bedroom?"

"It was her quarters at the Academy. I think it was the only place he could stay at without causing trouble," Hayate answered dryly, "She gave him a separate bed."

"I hope that you are telling the truth," his mother said, "I hope he didn't do anything stupid with that girl. Especially if this world doesn't have birth control."

"Relax mom, he's been okay with her. I'm pretty sure he didn't do anything he didn't want to."

 _Like that boy ever knew what he wanted._ Nasu thought.

"I think he matured a bit here," Ichika remarked as he looked outside, "From the looks of it, something in him changed."

"I think so too." Hayate agreed.

"I hope so." Nasu begrudgingly joined.

The SUV began to slow down as a manor came into view.

"Here we are," the driver said as they pulled up through the walls surrounding the manor.

"Not bad, I wish we'd have a place like this in Tokyo." Ichika whistled out, "Thank you for everything, M. Anders."

The grounds around the house could use some work but the building itself was already much bigger than their home. The large yards was simply icing on the cake. This was the type of place millionaires lived in.

"It was no trouble." The government bureaucrat assured. "You fine people enjoy yourselves."

"At least he's staying safe," Nasu pointed out as she glanced at the cameras around before exiting.

As they stood on that front path, the front door opened and someone stepped out. And when the two parties saw each other, they both froze. There was no way for either to mistake the other. Saito was looking at his parents that he hadn't seen in the flesh in over a year, and his parents were looking at their son they hadn't seen in over a year.

It was easier to say words indirectly than directly. It was a tearful moment as parents and child ran into each other's arms.

"Saito!" His mother practically sobbed out his name as she squeezed him tight.

"Hi mom." Saito's voice quivered as he returned the hug.

"No hug for me?" his dad asked tearfully as he watched them. His wife and youngest son looked at him before Saito ran over to him and hugged him.

"I missed you son."

"Me too dad… me too dad," he sniffed.

"I thought I taught you better than this," his dad joked half-heartedly.

Saito laughed tearfully.

"Can we come inside, Saito?" his mother asked, "We have a lot to talk about it."

She suddenly noticed his nervousness.

"Yeah, but I gotta warn you that Louise's parents are here," he explained shakily, "They're kind of…"

His mother's eyes narrowed at him.

"Why are they there?" she asked, half-worried, half angry, "What did you do?"

"No mom!" Saito suddenly exclaimed, "Louise kinda let it slip that you were coming and her parents sorta insisted to come and she couldn't say no to them."

"Calm down Nasu. Maybe they just wanted to make sure that their daughter isn't dating some idiot."

"Sure." Saito agreed with his dad, although it knew that wasn't true. Unfortunately for him, Hayate didn't play along.

"Nah, they've known him long enough to figure that out." He smirked while Saito looked at him with a betrayed look. "They've been able to give him the time of day for a little while now. They're already treating him like a son-in-law." Saito scratched the back of his head. His mother's lips were becoming dangerously pursed. "Must be why they want to meet you guys."

"Son-in-law to a pair of Nobles huh?" his father teased, "I'm frankly impressed."

"I want to meet them." His mother said icily. "And this girlfriend of yours."

* * *

Inside, the Vallières were waiting patiently for the Viscount's other guests to come in. Both the Duke and Duchess remained inscrutable in their expressions as they waited. The maid had prepared tea. From what they understood, the Viscount was nostalgic of his old home and had certain aspects and mannerism recreated here in his manor. They were still finding odd things to scrutinize.

They had already seen both Japanese adults through the large window. They were plain, to say the least. The man was averagely built while the woman was rather short.

"Did the Viscount say anything new about his parents?" The Duchess asked. Obviously Saito had talked about his parents at length with Louise, and her parents had drilled her for the same information. They were commoners, obviously, a factor the two nobles were going to ignore for this occasion with their mannerisms.

"No." Louise said quietly. "Just what he's already told me."

"Hmm." Her father responded. The Viscount's parents were 'office workers'. Scribes and the like, people who made the massive organizations and businesses in that world function. A highly sought after and apparently very profitable but modest employment. The Viscount hadn't described them as wealthy, but they had no idea whether to accept that given the gulf of the definition between each world.

Aside from that, Louise had admitted, with some clear embarrassment and anger, that Saito said his mother was kind of like her. Both parents had needed to make a concerted effort to maintain their expression when they heard _that_.

"I'm still looking forward to meeting his mother," Lady Vallière remarked.

Her daughter reddened at this. The Duchess kept her neutral expression but was smirking internally.

The Viscount and his family was still outside, talking. Or maybe they were arguing. The woman was making gestures and saying something to her son. The Viscount's brother apparently said something, and the woman spun around to waggle a finger at him too. The woman and her sons apparently went back and forth for several moments before she unexpectedly gave the Viscount a light slap across the head. His brother laughed and pointed, and then the woman turned and advanced on him as well.

The two nobles watched this short woman chase around and beat her sons whenever she got within arm's reach of them. Such behavior should've been ghastly, but it was the slightest bit entertaining for some reason. When the Duke glanced to the side and saw his wife outwardly _smirking_ like she found it amusing-and she did-, he grimaced. The Duke may have ran the estate, but his wife had a large impact on raising the family, and he knew she was probably going to steer a lot of this conversation.

Beside her parents, Louise was mortified at what she was seeing. She was going to greet them, but the prospect looked more daunting with every second.

Far behind, the outworlder stood by their carriage watching with an indiscernible expression, although he was howling internally at the whole scene.

That barrage ended when she got a hold on both of them, allowing her to hug both her sons together for the first time in a long time.

"I dare say she has missed her children." Lady Vallière turned away from the window to sip some tea. Some would think a parent's responsibility ended once the child left the house. She disagreed, and by the looks of it, so did the Viscount's mother.

Karen thought she might like the woman, despite their class differences.

* * *

After making her displeasure clear at how 'Western' (read: disrespectful) her sons had become, Saito finally relented his mom and dad inside the house. Louise and Siesta were waiting just beyond the front door, in the vestibule. Nasu glanced over both girls. One was dark haired but she was more interested in the pink haired one that stood next to her.

"Mom, Dad, this is Lady Louise-Françoise Leblanc de la Vallière," Saito introduced, "She's-"

"Your girlfriend huh." Nasu looked down at her. It was definitely the same girl as the video call over a year ago. The girl was well dressed, befitting a nobleman's daughter. She wore a light green dress while her hair was done in an elaborate bun. She was also pretty short. Ever since they'd stepped into Canada, the two adults got gotten use to seeing people taller than them. Louise was the first person Nasu recognized that was noticeably shorter than her. By only a few inches though.

"H-hello." Louise said quietly, feeling intense pressure from the way this woman's eyes bore into her. Saito, perhaps recognizing her discomfort, moved along the introductions.

"This is Siesta." Saito introduced his maid and friend, and his parents blinked in surprise at how 'normal' she looked. "You remember that Japanese Zero pilot that came here in WWII? She's his granddaughter. Or great granddaughter. I forgot." He admitted sheepishly.

"Hello." Siesta spoke up in awkward but understandable Japanese, surprisingly them further. "It's nice to meet you."

"Oh! She speaks Japanese."

"A little." Siesta switched back to English. "I've been trying to learn more. It's very different from the languages we have here."

"You're a… maid?" Nasu guessed after nodding. The outfit gave it away.

"Oh, yes. Saito just hired me." Siesta confirmed.

"I hope he's been a gentlemen." The Japanese woman glanced at her son in a threatening way.

"Oh, Saito's always been nice." Siesta didn't pick up the hidden meaning. "We've been friends since he arrived here. I was a maid at the Academy where Ms. Valliere...met him. He liked to stay with the kitchen staff in his spare time. Saito was nice enough to help me with some of my duties."

A nice modest Japanese girl (mostly), but Saito had gone for the pink-haired aristocrat. Her son had 'exotic' tastes, Nasu thought.

"We took a bath together." Siesta added as an afterthought. Saito flinched as his mother froze up.

"Could you please repeat that Miss Siesta?" Nasu asked coldly.

"We bathed together once," She repeated innocently. "He said it was a custom in Japan." Saito's mother was tight lipped, while his brother and father tried their hardest not to break out in grins. Louise had to stay composed too but her cheeks were reddening; Siesta had told her Saito had been in the courtyard, but she didn't know the maid had had a bath with him before her. Not that her and Saito had been together at that point, but still!

"Uh, let me introduce you to Louise's parents!" Saito grab his mother's hand like it was the paw of an angry tiger and gently pulled her towards the parlor.

As they entered the room, Saito took the lead. He cleared his throat as he moved to introduce his parents.

"Duke Vallière, Duchess Vallière, may I introduce you to my parents, Hiraga Ichika and Hiraga Nasu."

The two nobles nodded.

"Greetings, M. and Mrs. Hiraga. I am Duke Centurion Pierre de la Vallière and this is my wife, Duchess Karen Désirée de la Vallière. We have been eager to meet you."

"The feeling is mutual, Duke Vallière," Saito's father replied politely as his youngest guided them to a couch.

"Tea, M. Hiraga?" Siesta asked as she appeared with a tray of refreshments.

"Yes please."

The maid served the four Hiragas their tea as the Vallières watched closely. After a sip of tea, Nasu cleared her throat.

"Lord Vallière, Lady Vallière, how long have you known my son?" she asked seriously. "He gave us the impression in his letters you were looking after him." Neither of the nobles refuted that, but there was a slight shift in their expression. Louise's stoicism, under constant assault by the mere presence of this short woman, crumbled a little further.

It was Duchess Vallière that answered.

"Our daughter has been hosting him." Even before Saito had been granted a nobility title, they had a hard time labeling what exactly the boy had been. Their daughter had summoned him, yes, but did that really make him a familiar? His behavior (and Louise's towards him for that matter) made it obvious he was neither that, or a servant. That time period, a different world almost in how different it had been, was confusing to look back on. Neither could definitively say why exactly they'd even let that boy stay around their daughter.

"Has his accommodations been appropriate?" Nasu pressed on.

"What do you mean?" The duchess replied, knowing where the other woman was heading. Ichika swore that the duke had a brief break in his composure, revealing some… nervosity?

"I understand things are different in this world, but surely all parents can agree two teenagers being left alone is a bad idea no matter the world?"

"Indeed," The Duchess agreed. "But I will not press any fault on your son when my own daughter has disgraced herself in almost equal measure." She glanced over at Louise, who had bowed her head nervously. "They have both been troublesome, but we kept them in line when it was necessary."

"Ehhh…" Saito thought he could say something in his defense, but his mind drew a blank as the harsh stares of both women fell on him.

"Well, thank you for that, duchess." Nasu nodded. "We are grateful." The Duke cleared with throat.

"Let me extend my family's gratitude to yours. In spite of some mishaps," He glanced at the boy, "Your son has helped my family several times."

"How exactly?" the Japanese woman asked.

"He has helped exposed a traitor that endangered our daughter," the duchess replied, "Her former fiancé in fact."

"Fiancé? Excuse me, but how did this happen?"

"It is a rather convoluted tale but the Viscount was able to save her from a forced marriage that was to be done using foul magic. His skill with the sword allowed him to defeat the traitor."

"How did you let this happen?" Nasu asked, accusation in her voice. "Where were you when this happened?"

"I'm afraid that we were not present. Our daughter foolishly decided to accept a mission from her childhood friend and our current ruler," the noble answered honestly, "We were never consulted on this. We would have refused any involvement from her part."

"But mother! Her Majesty's secrets were at risk!" Louise protested before her mother silenced her with a glare.

"That is but one of many ways the Viscount has aided us," the duchess shifted her attention to the Japanese woman. "You have raised a brave son."

"His uncle was a detective." Saito's father spoke up.

"Detective?" the duke asked curiously.

"A man who's tasked with hunting dangerous criminals and investigating crimes. My brother was quite good at it," Ichika said with a hint of nostalgic pride, one that the duke didn't miss. "I guess Saito had the same spark."

"He's good at finding trouble, by the sound of it." Nasu sniffed.

"As uncouth as he is, your son's shown some skill as a statesman as well." Duke Vallière said, something he intended to follow up on later in the conversation.

"So we've heard." Nasu had to force a pleasant smile and tone. "He kept mentioning that's why he couldn't come home to us." You best believe she would've had her son home if she could've. But he hadn't wanted to. Since he was a Japanese citizen, the Americans and Canadians hadn't been too concerned, and apparently he was so well liked by high ranking people here they didn't want to risk their business relationship over one teenager and forcibly bring him back. Even her own government had echoed similar reluctance because of Saito's insistence. Everyone around her had been telling her to let him decide for himself.

He'd been 17!

"What else exactly did he achieve?" Ichika asked curiously.

"He was the one that convinced the Queen and her Regency Council to open diplomatic ties with Canada and the United States," Louise chimed in, "He told us about how powerful and how generous they were."

She conveniently left out his exaggerations that had become so famous.

"Yeah, and he was the liaison for a lot of people from Earth early on." Hayate spoke up. "Lot of people went to him for advice and directions."

"But how? You're still young!" Nasu exclaimed

"I just knew how things were here." Saito shrugged. "I knew the language. I knew a lot of people that wanted to interact with Earth."

"Is it really true that he was talking with President Trump and Prime Minister Trudeau?" Ichika asked.

"He accompanied us when we went to Ottawa and New York City," Louise explained proudly, "Saito helped convince them to help us."

"Is that so?" his mother remarked, incredulously.

"She speaks the truth," the duke said, "The Viscount's words were what convinced her Majesty to visit Earth and open talks with the Americans and Canadians in the first place."

"But has he done anything else dangerous?" Nasu pressed. That was what she was concerned about. "Like-" She sighed. "That crowning ceremony." The Duke lowered his eyes and the Duchess' lips pursed. That was still a bitter memory to all Tristainians no matter their class.

"I've asked the Queen personally on this matter. Both have, at the neglect of their duties and studies," That scorn bothered Louise more than it did Saito, "Have done a number of tasks for Her Majesty on top of the one regarding our daughter's former fiancéé. None have ended up as dangerous though."

"Yeah, our government mentioned that." Saito's father recalled.

"You are right M. Hiraga." the duchess answered, "My daughter and your son went on numerous escapades together at the Queen's behest."

"Escapades?" Nasu's eyes narrowed icily.

"Nothing inappropriate but they seem to be able to get themselves into predicaments. Always at the wrong place, at the wrong time," the Duchess explained, understanding the other woman's cold tone. "But nothing as dangerous as that incident."

"How is it that the Queen is sending such young people on such dangerous tasks? Doesn't she care about her subjects?" Nasu continued as the temperature suddenly dropped.

"Queen Henrietta is a compassionate ruler!"

"Then why did she ask my son and her childhood friend to do the job that an adult should have done?!" the Japanese argued, "Does she not have other people that could help her?"

The Duchess' face briefly hardened as she tried to find a retort to this strong willed woman. Afterall, the Archduchess had also done the same with Karen when they were young. And her anger had been at her daughter for these happenings instead of the Queen.

Not that she'd say that aloud!

"Her Majesty is still young and has yet cultivated many reliable and trustworthy friendships," she finally replied calmly, "My daughter and her have been friends since they were infants."

"Her Majesty only wanted us to get a letter from Prince Wales. She didn't imagine that we would be betrayed!" Louise argued, causing Nasu to glare at her.

"Adults are speaking, Louise!" her mother scolded sternly, before returning to what she'd been saying. "Her Majesty seems fond of the Viscount as well." _Perhaps because of their ages._ The Duchess figured to herself. "They were the only people she trusted with such a personal task."

Saito seemed capable of making friends quickly here. His parents had to wonder where that talent had been back in Japan.

" _Fond of the viscount_?" Nasu asked, an eyebrow raised, the previous matter put aside for the moment.

"Yes, he seems to be an unofficial advisor despite his humble origins and young age." Rumors had run rampant in Tristain high circles about that. But they'd played out for the best in the long run.

"Well...that makes sense." Nasu reasoned. These people knew nothing about Earth. Her son may have been a goof, but he wasn't a complete idiot.

Just an advisor was fine. She'd been worried there for a second her son had a chance of becoming a king. _That_ would've aged her by 20 years.

"It's the reason he ultimately obtained his title," the duchess finished.

"Yes, we still have trouble believing that our Saito is a hero in another world," his mother replied. "They've been behaving since then?"

"To our knowledge, the Queen hasn't requested their assistance again." The adults focused on Saito and Louise for confirmation.

"She hasn't." Saito said quickly. "American and Canada have been helping her now. The Coronation was the first time I had to fight anyone in a long time." He wondered if he should've mentioned that Julio guy, but then decided against it. Letting them know he might be getting into a fight with a Church representative was probably unwise right now. "Hopefully, she'll never have to ask us again."

"Saito, you know that's not true!" Louise hissed. "What about-" Saito slapped a hand over her mouth.

"Let's not mention the Void stuff right now, okay?" He hissed so no one else would hear them, even though they could see the two acting like fools.

"Do they always fight like this?" Nasu asked Hayate.

"Usually." The older brother seemed non-pulsed. The Hiraga patriarch was resisting the urge to make a certain comparison.

The Duke and Duchess, meanwhile, saw their daughter interrupting this conversation and arguing with the Viscount. They decided that enough pleasantries had been exchanged for them to get to the reason they'd come here.

"That's enough Louise!" the Duke scolded, "Your manners are inappropriate right now!"

"Forgive us." The Duchess nodded as she turned to the Hiragas. "We understand our appearance here was sudden. Your family must want to catch up in private. We only came because there is a very important matter to discuss, and if we can discuss it now, we can leave."

"If it's important." Nasu nodded, slightly cautious.

"Yes, well," The Duke looked at his daughter and the Viscount. They might as well be present here too; they needed to hear some of what was to be said too. "As we've previously discussed, our daughter and your son are very close."

"Very." The Duchess affirmed, to her reddening daughter's embarrassment.

"And understandably, we've been concerned about where it is heading." The Duke continued. Saito and Louise could sense where this conversation might be going. Louise was horrified. Saito was nervous even as Hayate flashed him a thumbs up everyone else couldn't see.

"My son seems to think he's ready to get married." Nasu's hawk eyes bored into her youngest. Saito shrugged nervously.

Louise's parents hid their surprise well. If they could even call it surprise.

"They are already acting like it." The Duchess was blunt.

"Well, our son is old enough in our world to get married." Saito's father jumped to their aid. "Your daughter is…" He trailed off when he realized just how small Louise was. Not that his wife was much bigger. "I'm sorry, I don't think we caught her age?" Now Louise was nervous and humiliated.

"17." Duchess Valliere answered, "Old enough to marry."

"Ah." Ichika nodded while his wife stared at the two teenagers with a piercing stare.

"Young man, how serious are you about this?" she asked pointedly. She had a thin hope that had been some momentary fancy he'd gotten over.

"We haven't actually talked about it all that much." Saito explained.

"Y-yeah." Louise found her voice, wanting to dismiss the subject quickly. "We agreed to only worry about it after the war!"

That did not de-escalate things.

"War?!" Nasu exclaimed, jumping to her feet. She rounded on Saito. "What war?!"

"It was in the journals." Her husband reminded her. "That floating count-"

"I know that!" She snapped at her husband before turning back to her son. "But you're not involved in that, are you?" She demanded. "You said you were a lord. Not a soldier."

"Those are kind of the same thing here…" Saito mumbled.

"It's our duty to serve our kingdom both in peace and in war!" Louise exclaimed.

" _OUR_ kingdom?!" Nasu retorted loudly, "Saito is from Japan and a Japanese citizen! He is not Tristainian!"

"I never said I was gonna fight in a war or anything!" Saito interjected.

"Wha?! Saito! Did you think that you could laze around with a title from her Majesty?! You're supposed to protect me!" Louise grabbed his arm.

"Did you know about this?" Nasu hissed, grabbing Hayate's arm while her other son still argued with his girlfriend. He shook his head quickly. Saito hadn't said anything to him about being in this war.

"What about you?" Ichika asked, looking at the Vallières, "Are you going to participate in this war?" In spite of the sudden escalation in emotion, they remained stoic.

The duke shook his head.

"I have chosen not to. My holdings currently require much of my attention right now and my army is being reformed after the last war."

"And you, Duchess Vallière?"

"I will go to make sure that my daughter does not do anything foolish and endanger herself," she answered as she sipped some tea. "The Queen has requested her personally to take part and we are in no position to refuse."

"You can't leave me alone!" Louise was shaking Saito's arm with a desperate look on her face.

"I didn't say that! I just don't want to fight in a war!"

"Then how are you supposed to protect me!?" his girlfriend argued as she kept tugging on his sleeve, "You have the Gandalfr runes and have to protect me!"

"Is that a tattoo?" Nasu asked through gritted teeth.

"Tattoo?" Saito mouthed before realizing that his sleeve had moved, revealing the runes on his forearm.

"Yes. That." his mother pointed with her hand, a mix of disgust and anger.

"It's not a tattoo mom-"

"Then what is it?"

Saito scratched the back of his head, trying to explain it without angering his mother even more. He even glanced at Louise who seemed to be cowed as well. His mother was still looking at him sternly.

"They're… magical runes," Saito answered hesitantly. His father looked curious.

"Where did you get them?" Ichika asked as he studied them.

"It's what binds me to him," Louise quietly explained causing Nasu to sharply turn her head towards her.

"What do you mean?" she asked coldly.

"It's not like that mom!" Saito waved his arms, "The runes just proved that she summoned me. They were kind of like a gift."

"So that he can protect me!" Louise interjected.

"Protect you? How? Saito's not a soldier or bodyguard!" his father exclaimed suddenly. Duke Vallière cleared his throat.

"The Viscount is surprisingly proficient with actual weapons," the noble explained, "Because of those runes."

"What do you mean?" Nasu asked.

"Eum well, they're magic. They make me really good with weapons. Like action hero good." Saito admitted when his dad's mind clicked.

"That that's why you were able to fight during the Coronation attack," he said half in awe.

"Yeah and that's why I'm pretty good with my sword."

"Your sword?" His father asked.

"Your sword?" His mother asked with much more dread.

"Wait, did we really forget to show them Derflinger?" Hayate suddenly realized.

"Derflinger? That's how you called your sword?" his dad said with a raised eyebrow.

"That was his name before I got him," Saito said before standing up, "I'll show you."

He left the room for a moment, leaving his parents with many questions. He quickly returned, carrying a sheathed sword.

"Oh so I finally get to meet your parents, partner!" a tinny voice exclaimed.

"Did-did that sword just talk?!" Nasu exclaimed as she looked at Derflinger.

"I did! I'm Derflinger. Pleased to meet you."

The woman was simply too flabbergasted to understand what was happening. Her son, wielder of a talking sword was simply too much.

"Hello Derflinger. I'm Ichika, Saito's father."

His father seemed to take it better than his mother.

"Pleased to meet you. So you two are the ones that sired this idiot that's my partner," the sword joked.

His mother's eyebrow twitched at the sword's comment.

"Alright, Derf, that's enough for now. We're kind of in the middle of something. I just wanted you to meet them. We can talk later."

"Ah, alright then. Pleasure!" The sword exclaimed as Saito left the room with him. He returned moments later, the room heavy with tension. The duke and duchess looked at each other before nodding. After that derailment, clearly there was so much for the other family to discuss, any attempt to discuss the matter they wanted would just keep getting derailed.

"On second thought, we shall take our leave. Come Louise, I believe that the Viscount would wish to be with his family after such a long separation and we have intruded enough up their hospitality," Duke Vallière declared as he stood up, "It was wrong of us to insert ourselves here. We can discuss this matter another time. But our meeting today has been rather… clarifying on many things."

"Clarifying?" Ichika asked.

"We've wanted to see what kind of family the Viscount hailed from," the Duchess replied before looking at Nasu, "May I request something of you Mrs. Hiraga?"

"Yes?"

"We would still like to converse with you through other means. Perhaps letters. I have many things I would like to discuss with you in the upcoming times. A wedding is not a simple affair in this world." The word made Saito and Louise cower.

"I understand," Nasu replied knowingly, "We'll talk to some people from Canada and see if they can arrange it."

"I believe they could." That Vallieres agreed on that approach.

Both Saito and Louise gulped as dread filled them, but Louise stood to follow her parents.

"And Viscount Hiraga." The Duke stopped in front of Saito, towering over him. "You and I will have to have a conversation on this subject soon too." He warned.

"O-of course, Duke Valliere." Saito tried to stand tall. It wasn't that he hadn't imagined asking Louise's parents for approval, it was just now he realized that aside from a noble, the Duke was also a very large man. One that could handle a sword and powerful magic.

"Come, Louise." Her mother bid as they exited the house.

"See you soon." Saito whispered, sad but not at all mad even after those heated back and forths. Louise looked regretfully at him, but the knowledge she'd be back soon enough.

"It was nice to meet you." She said politely to Saito's parents before hurrying off after hers.

Now that just left the Hiraga family to sort things out for themselves.

* * *

After that whole exchange, the attempt to have a family dinner was understandably awkward. There was more food than all four could possibly eat, and even Siesta had decided to give the family space. Saito had his head down in obvious regret. Hayate was the one to comfort him with a few pats of the back.

"Couples fight all the time bro, you'll both get over it."

"At least you won't be forced to sleep on the couch in your own house." His father said jokingly, glancing at his wife while she ate her rice silently and angrily. She glared at him with a pout.

"Yes, it could have been better," Nasu muttered between bites, "But at least I'll be able to talk with her mother."

"So what did you think of them?" Hayate asked cautiously.

"Well, they're what I expected from a bunch of old European aristocrats," his father replied casually, "Proud to a fault. Very protective of their daughter as well."

His wife nodded silently.

"Really dad? I expected them to be well… snobbier. They've always been like that with me. Even after I got my title, they weren't really that friendly." Now that he thought about it, Saito was surprised at how this afternoon had unfolded.

"They like you little bro." Hayate told him, "They called with your title all the time. I think that they kind of respect you now."

His mother was listening intently.

"You think so?" Saito asked.

"That's my hunch man. At least they didn't kill you for wanting to marry their daughter." Saito cringed. That whole business could've been brought up easier. But water under the bridge. He decided to not bring it up again.

"What about you mom?" the youngest Hiraga looked at his mother.

"Your father already said what needed to be said about them. We'll be talking to them more in the future.."

"And what about Louise?" he hesitantly asked his parents.

"She seemed like a nice girl," his dad said, "Might want to work on that temper of hers though."

"Yes, she's rather temperamental for someone like her," his mother added, "Not a good trait."

Ichika suddenly snickered, causing his wife to turn his attention to him.

"What's so funny dear?"

"She reminds of someone else," he said with a smile on his lips.

"Who exactly?" Nasu asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh you already know that person," he teased, causing her to pout.

Saito uneasily cleared his throat..

"Dad, I don't know how to ask this… but are you proud of what I did so far?"

"Of course I'm proud." His father nodded. "You're here trying to help a lot of people. In some weird ways." He added after a minute.

"Mom?" Saito asked. Nasu's face twisted in displeasure at being prodded to answer the same question.

"I don't like a lot of this." She said. "You're getting into gunfights. There aren't even guns in this world!" There technically were, but no Hiraga male was going to correct her. "You're fighting spies...you're fighting in wars…"

"I'm doing something though." Saito refuted. "I wasn't doing anything in Japan."

"You weren't doing anything dangerous either!"

Saito scratched the back of his head, trying to figure out what to say.

"Yeah, it's really dangerous mom," he admitted before his voice steeled itself, "But I'm happy with what I'm doing here and I did a lot to help. I won't be fighting anymore if I can help it. I want to build up Des Ornières so that the people here can have better lives instead and I'm taking classes for that!"

"And I like Louise." He went on. "I know it looks like a cheesy manga or something, but this is a real place. It isn't that bad."

"He's not a boy anymore." Saito's father came into the conversation. "Look at him, honey. I don't he would have been able to say that with that much seriousness before."

"Saito grew up mom." Hayate added seriously, "He's a lot more responsible than I remembered. He's more mature too." Saito nodded. "I mean, he's still a LITTLE hopeless in some areas." His little brother looked fake hurt. "But he's made it all on his own."

"What about that war they were talking about?" Nasu insisted, "That little girl said that he had to fight alongside her or something."

"Sounds like a real man to me-keeping the love of his life safe." Hayate piped up.

"Love of his life." Nasu tried to mutter dismissively, but couldn't quite manage it.

"I'll try and stay safe alright mom? I'm not going into battle unless if everything goes wrong." Saito argued. "I'm not going in alone. I got friends here who care about me. They'll try and keep me safe while I try to keep Louise safe. I'm not fighting a war alone."

He didn't need to mention that the CIA and CSIS had their eyes on him as well…

"These people did a lot for me. I have to pay them back."

"Don't you think you've done enough?"

Saito shook his head.

"No, mom."

The woman sniffed a bit.

"Don't you miss anything about Japan? At all?" His mother asked him. His head jerked back a bit before he looked down.

"I do."

"What?"

"I missed you guys a lot," he answered truthfully, "That's why I'm so happy to see you here. That's why I made this place look as much like home as I could." It wasn't a whole lot he could do, but it was something.

"Will you ever visit us?" she asked tearfully, "The house is a bit empty without you or Hayate."

"Of course mom, of course," Saito answered heartfully, "As soon as I can and if they let me come back."

"I will make them let you!" She insisted, then shook her head. She was quiet for a few moments, the rest of her family watching her cautiously. "I still can't understand it." She said it more to herself than them. "You don't look different from that day you disappeared, but you act so different." Saito glanced down at himself.

"He's not that different, mom." Hayate tried to insist. "He's still an idiot."

"Gee, thanks." Saito rolled his eyes.

"You've grown up in many ways I couldn't imagine," his mother whispered sadly, "I can't-can't believe this. I thought that you would have been unhappy in some way, that you were trying to put on a brave face."

She looked at him in the eyes.

"B-but when I saw you looking at Louise… I never saw you have a look like that back home."

"I love her." Saito said simply, "And she loves me."

Resignation appeared on his mother's face.

"I could never take you home like that. There's no way you can be happy back home."

"Mom…"

"So… please be careful. I don't want to lose you for good."

Both mother and son hugged each other, a tearful smile on their faces.

And so, on the first day of the visit, they managed to reach an understanding. That left the rest of it to genuine enjoyment and catching up. They got a full tour of Saito's lands, beautiful as they were, although his parents had to get used to being so well treated by the locals. They even got to meet Louise again a few days later without her parents around. The small girl was rather pleasant once her guard had dropped. It only took till midway for Hayate and Ichika's jokes about certain similarities to cause imminent danger to all involved. But Nasu went away from those interactions fully convinced the girl wasn't all that bad.

Saito spoiled them further by showing them more of Tristain, like it was a vacation rather than a reunion. Tristain was a beautiful country where the war hadn't touched it. When the day came for them to leave, he even went with his parents to the portal and insisted on buying them gifts to take home. Maybe they should've spent time here lecturing him on spending habits instead of marriage.

Now the Hiragas stood before the portal, their transport waiting for them as the sun was setting. They were saying goodbye to both their sons instead of just one; it seemed both of their destinies were entwined in this strange new world for the time being. But everyone parted that day feeling like they all understood each other better.

* * *

Despite her isolation, Charlotte had kept good track of the days in her mind. By her own count, the invasion of Albion was soon to begin. There wasn't much else to do in the home she'd grown up in than count the days. That, and talk to the family butler. But she had exhausted any possible conservation topics with that man years ago. Sit, count the days, and occasionally overhear her mother's ramblings echoing through the quiet, empty house.

And after a month of that, she'd gotten summons back to her uncle. She'd left the same day, bidding goodbye to her mother even though the woman didn't recognize her like always. Saying goodbye hurt, but not saying it would've hurt even more. Joseph must've finally decided how he wanted to try and get her killed this time. Probably more monsters from the Black Forest-the dense woods on the border between their Kingdom and Germania was full of mysterious and dangerous life.

But she was wrong.

"You're going to Tristain tomorrow, little girl." Sheffield had told her. "There is a place there called Des Ornières. You're going to kill the lord of those lands." Charlotte inhaled a little. She'd never been told to kill an innocent person. "He has a mistress with pink hair." Pink...hair? "You will kill her too." Pink hair...Tabitha had only ever seen one person with pink hair, and now that she was thinking about it, that domain name sounded familiar too. "She has a ring and book Joseph wants. You are going to get it for him." Des Ornières...Des Ornières...Charlotte knew she'd heard it before, only in passing probably, but she had.

Then it hit her, and the temperature of her core drained quickly.

"What are their names?" She whispered.

"Hmm?" Sheffield glared, annoyed Charlotte had thought to talk. "Speak up."

"Their names. What are their names?"

"How would I know?" Sheffield sounded annoyed "You should only be concerned…" The woman's expression shifted. "Oh?" And suddenly she smirked. "Yes, I remember now-they're about your age. Friends you made at school, little Charlotte?" She mocked. Charlotte let out a shuddering breath. She had to be referring to Saito and Louise, it all just matched up. But why them? Sheffield started cackling.

"This is perfect!" She grabbed the teen's arms and pulled her after her. "Your uncle will have to hear this!" Didn't he know? Or was this just cruel fate?

Charlotte was dragged to her uncle's study. He was looking over a chessboard with various pieces already on the side.

"Joseph, your dear niece told me something interesting," Sheffield said with glee. The Gallian king looked up, uninterested.

"Yes?"

"It seems that she might know the people who have the book and ring."

"Really?"

"They were friends at the Academy you sent her to," Sheffield explained, still smiling.

Joseph closed his eyes for a second.

"Than it will make it easier for you to get close and kill them, little Charlotte," he said emotionlessly, "No need for a complicated scheme. Simply a friendly visit as a cover."

Charlotte stayed silent as her uncle continued to talk.

"I dare say killing friends is easier than killing an enemy. A friend does not expect a dagger to plunge into their back."

An icy shudder went down Charlotte's spine.

"You will leave tomorrow with your familiar as previously discussed. Do not return without the book or ring."

* * *

Thick clouds hid the winter sun while a soft breeze blew through snow covered trees. The peaceful lands of the Tristainian-Gallian border were covered in light snow. The only thing that disturbed this peacefulness was the sound of rotor blades. American and Canadian choppers flew over the land, a regular sight for the border guards and the local inhabitants of both realms. It was nothing more than a routine by now. Extra eyes to help Tristain's border lords keep control of things, especially now when there was no Royal Army that could be summoned in the event of an invasion.

Charlotte had sat in the woods and watched them for half a day now, discerning a pattern. The occasional cavalry patrol trotted along the border too. It was a precious time that was being used as she looked at the sun. Each moment that passed was an ever growing chance of failure… something that the Gallian mage couldn't afford in large amounts. Illococo stood next to her, in human form. Both were dressed for the weather with thick cloaks and coats. Charlotte couldn't risk flying. If the outworlders could fly, no doubt they could an eye on the skies around them. Both girls kept quiet. Charlotte looked at the notes she'd taken on the border patrols. The horses weren't consistent, but the helicopters were. She could move around those if she was quick. She waited a few more moments before waving to Illococo.

Now was their chance. Both dashed through the light snow over the border. After a few moments, they were in Tristain. Still hidden in the woods, Charlotte pulled out a map and glanced at it. An hour of walking or so would be enough to put them at a safe distance from the border patrols. Once there, Illococo could simply carry her to Des Ornières with little hassle if all things went well.

It was winter and a lot of focus was on the coasts. She didn't expect to find many people on the roads that could spot her. Each step she took was a blur as her sole wish kept her mind focused.

To save her mother from her uncle. Brimir damn what he asked of her.

She wasn't going to kill Saito and Louise like he asked; she was certain at this point it was them. A young lord consorting with a pink haired lady with powerful magic that went to the Academy with her? The description fit so well that it was impossible to be coincidence.

No doubt something Joseph had chosen them specifically to torment her… and break her once and for all. The book and ring were probably just pretenses.

Her thoughts drifted to Saito and Louise. Her relationship with Louise wasn't much to think about. At best, they were merely academic rivals. Even there… Charlotte was always the better mage.

As for Saito, he was a different matter. Far less boisterous than Louise and far more approachable, the Japanese boy was a friend in her mind despite his proximity to the pink haired girl. He was always willing to tell stories about how amazing his world was, stories that Charlotte could barely believe until that portal appeared. Once it opened and trade began to happen, things changed. She saw how amazing Earth was. She enjoyed the tales that their writers had woven and how they had given her hope. Saito had helped a lot of students out of their shells to try it once the market at the portal opened.

Maybe Earth held the secret to healing her mother? Maybe Saito could do something amazing to save her from her uncle's clutches. The same way he'd saved Siesta from Count Mott.

It was with these thoughts that she flew Illococo to des Ornières. Luckily, it seemed that Brimir was on her side. The flight went without a hitch and she was on the doorstep of a slowly renovated manor. Charlotte knocked on the door.

"Greetings and welcome to Des Ornières-"

She recognized the black haired girl in front of her. It was Siesta. The very same maid she'd be thinking about when she recalled Saito's own heroic deeds.

"Weren't you in Gallia, Tabitha?!" Siesta exclaimed as she recognized the girl in front of her.

"Yes. Why are you here?" Charlotte asked calmly.

"Saito and Louise hired me to work as a maid but why are you here?!"

"I need to see Saito now," the Gallian said softly, "It is very urgent and he can help me."

Siesta's eyes narrowed.

"I heard what you did as spy. Why should I let you in?"

"Because my uncle forced my hand. He has my mother as a hostage," Charlotte pleaded, "I need Saito's help. If he could save you… then maybe… then maybe."

She felt a hand on her shoulder. Siesta's expression was sympathetic now.

"Come in, I will get Saito."

* * *

It was 4 days until D-Day and you could really feel the tension throughout the entirety of Tristain. So many houses, of the commoner and noble kind, had tearful goodbyes. Wills had been written, houses and titles passed on to other, often younger, members of the family in case the one leaving didn't come back. Boys and girls too young to even marry were being given control over acres of land and thousands of commoners to manage. There was anxiety of responsibilities for everyone.

Everyone except the nobles that had pushed Henrietta to invade were now kicking themselves for wanting to launch an invasion in the middle of winter. It was making logistics hard, although at least most of the Tristainian Army had the benefit of warm houses their allies had gifted to them.

An advance force of 12,000 Germanians was causing a different kind of tension throughout Tristain's coast. Thousands of men, larger and better equipped than most of their allies, were camped out along the coast, making the local towns and lords very nervous. Tarbes was hosting a force twice its population. There were Canadian troops keeping watch, but that offered only so much reassurance.

At Clément, the base was brimming with Tristainian troops readying for the invasion. They were being inspected by Marshal du Poitier and Admiral de Boeck in preparation for the invasion. They were the first wave of troops, the most well-trained forces of the Royal Tristainian Army

There was a notable oddity in its officer corps, split between older nobles and many fresh new faces requested from the noble families by the Queen. One could tell simply at a glance by looking at the uniforms.

Most of the older and a very small number of the younger wore fancier, more traditional uniforms. While not abhorrent for the most part, a lot were clearly in worse physical shape than many of the troops they were leading. They'd brought their own lodgings and servants that couldn't have looked more out of place.

In contrast, nearly all of the young officers had uniforms that had an uncanny resemblance to the dress uniforms they'd seen the Earth soldiers wear at special events. Still flashy, but not as much. It also made them look very similar to the Musketeers that made up nearly a fourth of the new Tristain Royal Army.

Actually, the way Henrietta had rebuilt the whole Army seemed clearly inspired by their allies. They still had swordsman, pikemen, and cavalry. Even though most went to the new Navy, they'd furnished new cannons too. The things any Halkegenian army worth its salt needed. But the Musketeers had been reorganized in a way that distinctly mirrored America and Canada's soldiers. Terms like platoons, squads, and even the way they were trained to fight without the same strict formation as other units types. Changes that even necessitated giving commoner soldiers more power and authority in the units. It remained to be seen if these tactics and organizations would work with firearms that were less advanced, but it was an experiment they all seemed very invested in.

And all of this was due to the training Earth had provided. When word had spread the Earth was training the Undine Knights, a lot of young nobles showed interest. Way more than either the Queen or Earth had anticipated.

But Earth had tried to take them all in anyway. Not all had made it. More than a few had dropped out for inability reasons or conflicts of ideas. And you couldn't change centuries of norms in only a few short months.

But Earth had made something out of those that had stayed. They may not have been that potent magically compared to the old, but they had something else, something within. A spirit. Du Poitier couldn't describe what it was exactly, but he recognized it for what it was: power.

This invasion was going to succeed. Their soldiers were more skilled than ever. He was certain.

* * *

Earth was getting ready too. All that supplies they'd gotten ready was being prepped to ship out. UN personnel, a small coalition of British, French, and Belgian troops were camped out at the airbase waiting for their own chance to move. Colonel Roberts had secured a position as the overall mission commander without any struggle; he knew the area and the languages. He certainly wasn't going to complain-he'd been sure he was on the edge of getting sent home. His role as the commander for the detachment of Canadian troops in Tristain had gotten redundant after the 2nd Division had moved in on a more permanent basis. This would be the Division's new role and legacy for the rest of time, everyone was thinking.

But a military offensive was nothing without intelligence and deception, and while military intelligence were working their butts off, so were the civilian intelligence agencies. Reports of all kinds flooded into the intelligence offices. Troop movement, civilian morale, weather conditions, political shifts, economic state were filling pages of reports and were doubled checked for inconsistencies. They got it all, and they made sure the relevant info got to the correct military authorities.

And goddamn was it busy right now. Everyone, in all professions, departments and branches, were working overtime. Clerks and secretaries made sure that reports from scouts and spies got to the hands of analysts while these made sure that they were true. Planners, advisers and officers eagerly read everything scrap of information that got to them as plans were drawn up, altered and finalized. A supply convoy carrying nothing but coffee and cigarettes had arrived in advance.

But not all eyes were turned on Albion. Others kept watch over the other realms, making sure that none were taking advantage of the invasion to attack Tristain or Germania. They were making sure Germania stayed in line too, as did Julio and the order of knights he'd arrived with a few days ago.

No one could ever be too sure.

And on their own, there were putting together a little deception act with Mathilda. Speaking of that whole debacle, every one of those kids and the half-elf had been secretly moved off base to avoid questions from the locals as well as certain radical ultranationalists in Québec. They were enjoying some time at an isolated government owned cottage in Québec's Laurentides region, just north of Montréal. The well-preserved nature, beautiful landscapes and clean lakes were a nice experience for them, more reminiscent of the orphanage they grew up in. They were hiking whenever it wasn't raining and over all enjoying themselves with the indoor swimming pool and other things, taking plenty of pictures to show Mathilda when they saw her again. The modern conveniences and bountiful food were simply an added cherry to an already pleasant sundae.

Less for the agents to consider, which was good for them.

Devers took a fortifying sip of coffee as he read a report on the Romalian soldiers. These guys were religiously insane under a cool exterior. Out for blood like the Inquisitor, except they actually carried swords and were powerful mages. From what his and Harper's people gathered, the Romalian knights were skilled battlemages with a well feared reputation from their zeal fighting heretics across the continent. Something they considered Albion to be filled with. They were few in number but could shift battles if left unchecked. A threat to everyone.

You got dirty in this job sometimes. And at the moment, they were getting especially dirty, wondering what kind of repercussions would happen if the order 'accidentally' walked into a massive Albion ambush. He glanced at the clock in his office, ticking away the seconds till the invasion.

Suddenly, urgent knocking interrupted his reading.

"Come in!" Devers ordered quickly. A younger agent came in with something photocopied on a sheet of paper. There were a lot of younger agents in Tristain, these days. It was a low risk but work heavy environment. A good way to build experience and reputation for the much more dangerous and complex work back on Earth.

"Sir, we just got this from the border with Gallia!" he reported while catching his breath. "It's a bounty they shared with the Tristainian border guards. This is the first time they've ever done this since we got here. But look at it."

Devers' eyes narrowed as he recognized the face on the wanted poster.

"What the hell?! This isn't a joke right?!"

"No sir. The Gallian noble who gave it to the border guards sounded really serious." Devers glanced down at the sheet again. A rough sketch of that Charlotte girl from a month back stared back at him with more emotion than the real one ever did. Apparently, she'd escaped house arrest and tried to rob some ancient relics and killed a few guards before fleeing. The Gallian Royal Family was offering a sum of 2000 gold pieces for her capture. "They said she might have friends up North."

Oh yeah, she did. The Germanian girl, who'd they'd promptly sent home to Germania after questioning, confirmed that. It wasn't just her, either. Apparently, Tabitha had been friends with Saito Hiraga. People she'd probably seek shelter with, and one was closer...

Assuming this was real. You'd be amazed how many 'rogue' or 'disavowed' agents suddenly went home with their charges dropped after an intense manhunt from their own nation's forces back on Earth. This reeked of a cover story to deny involvement.

"This bounty is all over Lutèce too." The agent confirmed. Huh, so they were committed to the ruse.

Devers heard more footsteps as Harper appeared in his doorway.

"We got a problem with Hiraga and that Void Mage," the man said.

"Let me guess: it involves a blue haired spy and her dragon?" Devers quickly got up and handed to other man the poster.

"Yeah. How the hell did you guess?" He looked down at the paper, "Shit."

"Yep. Goddamnit." The men hurried to another part of the building. The security package they'd so graciously 'gifted' Saito included exterior cameras that were constantly recording or being watched. A junior agent already had eyes on the screen, looking at two girls.

"She's still talking to the maid. Dragon's hidden nearby." He said. Both leaned over to look at the screen. There was the Gallian spy, standing on the doorway and seemingly sharing pleasant conversation with Siesta.

"They know she's a spy." Obviously, Saito and Louise had been informed and questioned the same as Kirche. To say they'd been stunned was an understatement. But Louise had at least been quick to swear off any connections with the blue haired girl. Saito...there'd been doubt in the boy's eyes. "But that idiot Hiraga might still take her in." Kid had heart, but that could always lead you to trouble. "Go get some guys together and get us clearance to act." Devers told Harper. "I'm going to go talk to the Colonels, get us some backup." He started walking, then turned back. "And warn them about that magic mirror!"

Devers already decided he be going with the team. He wanted to be sure this problem wasn't going to pop up again. He also needed to have a word with Saito. Ten minutes later, he was in the intelligence agencies' own separate armory gearing up with some other guys. Harper was going to keep things running here.

"Yes, we're absolutely sure. It has to be her." He was on the phone with a servant. He had to get them clearance to operate and give out the warning.

After a few moments of silence, he heard a familiar voice.

"This is Captain Agnes? What is happening Agent Harper?"

"It's concerning that Gallian spy we've apprehended last month," he explained, "She's gone rogue in Gallia and attacked guards there. There's a bounty on her head."

"Yes, a messenger from the border arrived at the Palace to speak to us about that," Agnes reported. She paused briefly. "You have found her already?"

"By a lucky fluke," Harper admitted, "She's at Des Ornières right now. Do we have authorization to go after her?" As the Queen's #1 consultant and actor in internal security in the Kingdom, Agnes could give them that permission.

"You may." She didn't dwell on it long. "And this time, it might be preferable if she doesn't make it."

"Whatever happens will happen. One last thing."

"Go on."

"There's that mirror there that connects to the Queen's bedroom. Can you secure your end in case if that spy gets to it before we can?" Harper briefed.

"Yes. Does her Majesty need to be informed immediately?" Agnes asked. "She is very busy at the moment. If you capture her, we can inform her when she reaches the coast."

"That's your discretion. We're about to head out ourselves, but if you think you can act too, do it now. Even if you can flush her out, we'll pick up the pursuit."

"Understood." On her end, Agnes hung up. She didn't intend to tell the Queen right now; the other woman was headstrong when it came to her friends. Agnes had no intention of letting her possibly go intervene and face an enemy spy. Henrietta's safety came above her own whims. Saito and Louise could handle themselves, Agnes was convinced of that much. Failing that, their allies had proved themselves time and time again. The Queen was about to leave anyway-Agnes would simply get her out the door faster.

As she exited her room, she ran into Archduchess Marianne.

"Captain de Milan, you appear worried," the older women said. She'd known the Musketeer long enough to pick that up.

"The Queen may be in imminent danger, Archduchess." Agnes leaned forward and said lowly. The Archduchess gasped in alarm and put a hand up to her mouth.

"What is happening?" she asked in a low voice.

Agnes quickly explained what had happened with that Charlotte girl in Gallia and how she reappeared in Tristain at Des Ornières. The Archduchess' eyes narrowed.

"My father was already a careless man. I hope he knows that he's endangered his granddaughter as well." she sighed in irritation. Agnes blinked.

"I'll get people watching it. We just have to keep the Queen away for the time being. Hopefully get her out of the Palace."

"She was to leave for Clément-sur-Mer today. Are the preparation for her departure done?"

Agnes nodded.

"Yes, the Royal Carriage and Musketeers are ready to leave."

"Perhaps we can hasten her departure?" the Archduchess proposed quickly.

"That will work." Agnes nodded.

* * *

The familiar sound of helicopter blades could heard across Des Ornières as the local peasants looked up from their fields and animals at the approaching green airship. They had already begun seeing the carriages from the other world, but not the airships. Their friendly new lord certainly had a lot of wealthy friends, so they didn't think too much of it.

At the lord's manor, Tabitha was waiting silently in the living room, trying not too hard to listen to Louise and Saito arguing a few rooms over while Siesta had gone to fetch some drinks. The pink haired girl was certainly not happy when she found out that a Gallian spy was in her lover's home.

"What are you thinking, you dumb mutt?!" Louise shouted at Saito, "T-that's an enemy spy and assassin! She could be planning to slit our throats!" The mage guessed uncomfortably close to what Tabitha had actually been sent to do.

"She's our friend!" he retorted, "And she said she needed help. She saved us against the Earth Golem, remember?!"

"Friend?! She never did anything for me when Kirche and the others called me Zero! She just had her nose in her books and silently made fun of me! For all we know, she could have worked with Fouquet and covered her tracks!"

"Do you have any idea what you're saying?" Saito sounded frustrated.

"You know Pinky," A metallic voice interjected. "If she wanted to kill you, she could've knocked down the house with us in here."

"Shut up you rusty piece of junk!"

"Calm down, Louise!"

"Don't you understand you've put us in?! She's probably has another plan against us! She's done jobs like this for Gallia before!"

"Derf's right. Tabitha's pretty powerful and could have called down her magic on us before. She didn't have to come knock on the door."

"Why are you being so stupid recently?!" Louise groaned.

"Stupid?! What are you talking about?!"

"That's exactly what I mean!"

Saito groaned. Why did women have to be so complicated? "Just let me talk to her for a minute, okay?"

"Ugh. Fine!"

Saito massaged his temples as he left the room and made his way to the living room. Tabitha was sitting with a glass of tea in her hands while Siesta had returned with some fruits.

"Hey Tabitha."

"I-I'm sorry Saito." she blurted, "I didn't want this to happen."

"Listen, I'll do what I can to help you, alright? What's wrong?"

"Thank you. My uncle wants me to kill you and Louise and steal her ring and a book she's supposed to have."

"I knew it!" Louise shouted, standing up and brandishing her wand.

"Calm down Louise!" Saito stopped her. "Why are you here then? You escaped from him?" Saito urgently asked but Tabitha shook her head.

"No. I don't want to do what he wants. I came here to ask for help."

"What for?" The teen raised an eyebrow. "Do you need a place to hide?"

"Not that simple. My mother-He still has her and she can't defend herself."

"What do you mean?"

"She was poisoned by my uncle's friends after my father died and she's lost her mind," Tabitha explained sadly, "She has no one to protect her except me. As long as she's in Gallia, he has a hold over me."

Saito was shocked but not surprised. He had heard from Henrietta and Louise that Joseph was a psycho that had supposedly killed his brother for fun. At least, that's how he saw it.

"I can't do it myself. The Queen and Earth wouldn't help me…"

"You want me to help you save your mother?" Saito guessed, pointing to himself. Tabitha nodded.

"Saito…" Louise hissed in his ear, but he held up a hand to shut her up. What Tabitha had just told him was awful. He had to do something to help her… she had helped them against Fouquet the first time they ran into her. She was a victim now, not an enemy.

"So where's your mother?" Saito asked.

"In my family's home near Lake Lagdorian. My uncle left guards there when I left but they are few. Our family's old servant is still there to guard over her but there is not much he can do."

So far, it didn't sound like it would be difficult to save Tabitha's mother.

"Maybe I can ask a few favors and see what I can do," Saito suggested but Louise glared at him.

"Saving her mother is a foolish idea. It could start a war if we anger King Joseph!" the pinkette pointed out, annoyed.

"I'm sure we can think of something." Saito reasoned.

"So you'll fight for Tabitha, but now for me?!"

"I didn't say that!" He shot back. "This is different, Louise! It's not-"

The sound of whirring blades drowned out Saito's raised voice. A helicopter. He wondered why one would be near his home, then the answer clicked.

"The cameras… shit!"

* * *

A Chinook touched down right in Saito's front yard, the ramp already down. Devers was standing at the top when it did. "Circle around the back." He addressed the Canadian Lieutenant leading the two squads they'd rounded up for this. "The target has blue hair. If they try to escape, apprehend them. If they fight back, neutralize them. Don't engage anyone with black or pink hair. Go!" The soldiers pounded down the ramp before splitting into two groups and circling around the manor.

A second later, he and his own agents stepped off and moved with a purpose towards the front door, weapons aimed.

"M. Hiraga! I know you're in there with a Gallian spy!" he shouted angrily, "Don't fuck things up for you and your girlfriend any more than you already have! Send her out! We have this place surrounded!"

The door opened revealing a panicked Saito who was carrying a staff.

"Listen, M. Devers, Tabitha's inside and she doesn't want to hurt anyone. She surrendered her staff to me!" He pleaded, holding it up for proof.

But an angry Louise suddenly barged out beside him. "She came to steal my Ring and the Founder's Prayer Book! Please arrest her!" The Void items? Now it was this shit?

Wordlessly, Devers shoved Saito to the side and went in with his team behind him. They stomped into one of the parlors, frightening the maid. The spy was sitting on the couch, hands in her lap, a glass of tea in front, looking very sad and resigned. She showed no visible reaction as men surrounded and pointed their guns at her.

"Well, Miss d'Orléans, I didn't expect to meet you again."

"Hey!" Saito tried to come in, but was blocked in the doorway by one of the agents. Devers turned and glared at him.

"Stand back, M. Hiraga. We are doing you a very big favor here. You don't want to be a part of this."

Saito was taken aback by the agent's bluntness.

"What are you talking about M. Devers? She's being forced to do this against her will!"

"Doesn't matter. She's still an enemy. Cuff her." He ordered one of his men. One of them stepped forward and grabbed Tabitha's shoulder before throwing her from the couch onto the floor, tea spilling on the carpet. Saito protested but he fell on deaf ears.

Tabitha was stoic as she was being cuffed, even though the true hurt showed in her eyes. Maybe it was the fact she'd accepted her life and this existence before a shred of hope ever appeared that allowed her to deal with the fact that nothing was going to save her.

"B-but you can't just arrest her! Joseph is going to kill her mother! He's using her to attack us! Can't you use her to fight back against him?!"

"It isn't that simple. It's either this girl, or war with Gallia. Lesser evils, kid. I've told you before not everything can go how you want, M. Hiraga," Devers replied. "This is how life goes sometimes." He motioned to the agent to pick her up. "We arrested the target without incident. Meet us out front." He radioed the lieutenant. "For the benefit of your standings in this Kingdom and North America, it's best you pretend this never happened." Devers addressed a protesting Saito and Louise, the latter looking smug. The kid had just done something really stupid, there was no denying that. He was caught cooperating with a foreign spy afterall… personal friend or not, it looked really bad for him. But no one else needed to know.

The agents escorted Tabitha out of the house to the waiting helicopter while Devers send a quick sitrep to Clément. The troops were getting back as well, ready to leave…

Then the trees behind the manor started breaking up. They started to tilt, and then they started to collapse onto the manor house, all in quick succession. The wood and stone structure partially caved under the weight, throwing dust and smoke into the air in an unholy racket.

"Jesus!" Devers stopped. Tabitha paled as she realized what was happening. She'd thought her uncle had just come up with something to kill her. But if this was something he seriously wanted, of course he'd have someone else if she failed.

"It's my uncle, he's sent more assassins!" Devers rounded on her, glaring. He grabbed her and shoved her roughly, causing her to fall onto the metal floor of the helicopter.

"Watch her!" He ordered two of his people. "Lieutenant, we're going to need a hand! Secure this LZ!" If there were assassins, they'd have to be dealt with and they didn't need their bird getting destroyed. And they had to get those kids out of there.

The seasoned agent ran into the building with some of his men, their weapons drawn, shouldering the door open with brute force.

"M. Hiraga! Lady Vallière!" Devers shouted, making his way back to the parlor. He was stopped almost immediately by the end of a tree. A scream behind him got his attention. "Go check that room!" He ordered, turning on his heels.

One of his agents quickly ran into the room ahead of him, his MP5 ready for anything. A woman was huddled on the floor of a dining, surrounded by debris from the roof. A tree had come right down and crushed the table.

"It's the maid!" he shouted as he carried Siesta out, "Ceiling almost fell on her!"

"Any sign of M. Hiraga and Lady Vallière!?"

The agent shook his head but Siesta managed to croak out an answer.

"T-they were arguing in the main bedroom on the second floor."

Devers cursed inwardly and hoped that the stairs were still intact as they dashed through the collapsing manor. The stairs to the second floor were fortunately still standing, although a collapsed tree was sitting at the top of them.

And someone was on that tree.

The figure was heavily cloaked and holding a sword in one hand and wand in the other. As soon as he raised the second, Devers put a tightly controlled burst of 5.56 in his chest, sending him tumbling off the tree somewhere behind.

"We got hostiles inside the house!" He called to the two people behind him. "M. Hiraga! Are you up here?!" He didn't get a human response, but he suddenly realized he could hear heavy metal clanking. "Shit, I think those are constructs!" 'Constructs' was the military term Earth had come up with for the human sized combatants Earth Mages could summon, made out of stone, bronze, or other metals. There'd only been a few engagements with them during the Albion invasion. Either there was more than one Earth Mage, or the fucker on the tree Devers had shot wasn't the one who'd toppled the trees and was now sending them in.

And three agents were about to take on an indeterminable amount of them in the open on a staircase.

The first came running up the trunk of the fallen tree, revealing it to be of a stoney composition and armed with a spear. Devers downed it same as he had the human. One came lumbering down the hallway towards the agent at the bottom of the stairs, and he down it with more fire. Another came from the other end, and it passed the banister, allowing the agents on the stairs to aim down and kill it.

"Lieutenant, there's an Earth Mage outside assaulting us with constructs! Find them and kill them!" Devers ordered over comms. "Down into the hallway!" He ordered his own people. Fighting on flat ground was better than a fucking staircase. They got on more level ground and stood back to back, gunning down a few more constructs that came down either end of the hall or from above.

More rifle fire from outside. "We're engaged with something!" The Lieutenant reported. A few more constructs came in, then the flow stopped, their master presumably busy with other things.

It was more important to secure the area first, so the trio moved to the back of the house where the rifle fire was still going strong. Through the trees and bushes, spellfire and gunshots could be seen flying in a deadly exchange. Occasionally, explosions echoed as well as 40mm shells were lobbed into the woods, the Canadians trying to eliminate the threat as quickly as possible.

Devers and his team laid down fire at the passing constructs, thinning the lines further and causing the enemy mage, already burdened by attacks on two sides, to spread his attention even thinner.

In the woods, one of the Canadian platoons finally got close enough to see their target, at a moment he was focused in the opposite direction. His body flew into the air as a 40mm grenade went off just a few feet from him, and over three dozen bullets entered his body right after it landed. A large number constructs suddenly dematerialized. He was as dead as could be.

"Target neutralized!"

"Good stuff, lieutenant! Get those woods secure and send a squad back to the helicopter!" There might've been other mages out there, or even that damn dragon.

That threat dealt with, the agents returned to the same center staircase to resume their search for Saito and Louise. And as they approached, they heard metal clashing against metal. The source revealed itself to be Saito, very much alive and clashing swords with another cloaked asshole on top of the tree. The kid was holding his own, but he wasn't winning either.

"M. Hiraga, get out of the way!" Devers ordered, and without missing a beat Saito suddenly dived off the side of the tree. The assassin did too, onto the stairs. It was nowhere near fast enough to outrun their tracking, and several shots hit his center mass. He crumpled to the bottom of the stairs in a heap.

"Saito?!" Louise's voice sounded, and she appeared amidst the branches at the top of the landing.

"I'm fine!" Saito climbed back up and helped her get onto the trunk.

"Get down here!" Devers shouted. Saito grabbed Louise's hand and together they hopped off the tree trunk and started running down the stairs to the agents, hopping over the corpse of the attack. Louise had the Founder's Prayer Book held tightly to her chest. "Stay behind me!" Devers ordered. "Cedric, watch behind us." He started moving. gun up, Saito and Louise behind him and the other two agents watching and sides and back.

"Where are we going?" The Japanese boy asked as they all weaved through the corridors and under a tree that fortunately hadn't come down completely on the 1st floor.

"You two are going through that mirror of yours while we deal with this."

"Wait, we have to find Siesta!" Saito protested.

"We already got her. She's safe." The agent assured. They escorted them all the way to the basement, which fortunately hadn't been compromised at all by the trees. Devers punched in the code for the door to the secret room. "There you go." He pushed the door open. "Tell the Queen what's happening and stay. There." He punctuated the command. He motioned them through.

Alright. Prisoner arrested, critical assets evacuated. Things were just about sorted out here.

* * *

Things were already chaotic at the Royal Palace before the spy Charlotte had arrived. Henrietta had made plans to stay at Clement-Sur-Mer for the opening days of the invasion, with the intention to actually step foot in her home by birthright after her forces had a beachhead. So she'd been packing for a long stay away from the Palace, and that meant a lot of busy work. But it was nearly done.

Despite that, to Henrietta's confusion, suddenly everyone seemed to be rushing to get it done and get her on her way immediately. She was in the main hallway, with Agnes at her side.

"Your Majesty, we've finished the preparations for your departure ahead of time," the captain explained, "We shall leave early." As she said that, other Musketeers went by with the last of her luggage.

"I understand," Henrietta replied, "But is there any urgency?"

"No, your Majesty. I merely took the initiative. I believe that an early arrival would help bolster our troops' morale," Agnes lied.

"Is everything ready though?"

"Yes, most of the Royal Guard have left for Clément-sur-Mer in advance along with some of the staff. All another reason to leave; I don't like empty places." With Henrietta expected to be gone for several weeks, a lot of the Palace staff had been allowed to go home. Between them, the Musketeers, and the Manticore and Griffon Knights having left, the Royal Palace was nearly empty. The archduchess was still present with her smaller staff but they did not fill the hallways in the same way as when Henrietta was present.

"At least allow me a moment to make sure I've taken care of everything." Henrietta insisted, and mentally retraced her to do list. She'd already arranged with First Minister Delage to oversee the kingdom for the weeks she would be away.

While she ran over her checklist, Agnes used her radio to order the rest of the squads standing guard throughout the Palace to come to the front hall, excluding the one watching the Queen's bedroom of course. 2 of the 4 didn't respond.

"Roux, Martin. We're about to leave." Agnes said again. "Roux, Martin, respond." Nothing. Agnes did a quick check with the other squads, and their radios worked just fine. Both of those teams were on the West Wing. Were their radios just busted? Or…

Agnes' eyes narrowed. Henrietta was still going over her list in her mind. The Archduchess was approaching to wish her daughter goodbye.

"Form a perimeter!" The Captain barked, startling everyone. The 12 Musketeers in the front hall immediately formed a square around their Queen and Archduchess. Both women gasped.

"Anges?" Henrietta questioned.

"Something way be wrong." She explained. "Stay here. I will go investigate." Without giving her charge a chance to protest, she hurried away. She got on her radio again to order the squads on their way to tighten the guard on the front hall.

Assuming the worst was part of Agnes' job, but she definitely hoped not. The Musketeer Corps was still trying to rebuild. They'd accepted a few new recruits during the surge of enlistments after the invasion, but they weren't as big as they'd once been.

Palaces were a pain to guard. So many places to patrol, so many windows that could be broken to gain access. You had a lot of staff walking around to report things, but that was useless at the moment when they'd gone home. The Palace was empty, and now something might've happened right at the moment it was easiest to slip in. Funny timing.

The Queen had no shortage of enemies external or even internal. Their allies were worried about the former, but Agnes was always looking at the later. She hadn't forgotten how much opposition the Queen faced before she was coronated. It had been quieter since the economic prosperity and help with the invasion, but grudges lasted a long time. And there were still things they didn't like about the improvements in the Kingdom.

She stayed silent as she entered the West Wing, not intending to alert any intruders if there were any. The end of her pistol stayed up. Even in armor, she was capable of moving relatively silently through the hallways.

Then her nose picked something that made her stop- gunpowder. A musket or a pistol had just gone off nearby. She immediately rushed to the wall and made herself as hard to spot as she could.

"We have intruders in the Palace." Agnes quietly radioed. "Evacuate the Queen immediately and alert the city guard. I'll try and locate them."

"Agnes, please be careful!" Henrietta overheard and had to grab one of the radios.

"Just go, your Majesty!" The older woman insisted. "I have yet to fall to an assassin's blade."

Upstairs, the Musketeers standing guard in Henrietta's room grew alarmed when they heard a commotion from within. All four took a knee, muskets armed squarely at the door. The noise continued from within. Stumbling, banging...and then voices, muffled by the heavy wood. Then the door burst open, and two figures tumbled out, screaming in alarm when they saw the weapons aimed at them.

"Hold fire!" The squad leader ordered. "It's Lady Vallière and Viscount Hiraga!"

"We were just attacked by Gallian assassins!" Louise started explaining quickly. "They were after the Founder's objects. The Queen must know immediately!"

Back in the West Wing, Agnes had just come across a gruesome sight: one of her missing squads, all slain. Two lay dead next to small craters in the wall, as though they had been flung into them by an extreme force. One lay dead next to a musket that had been fired, their neck sliced open. The last body lay a few feet away from another dropped musket, sword drawn. This Musketeer had done physical combat with her attacker. Then her radio crackled to life with news from the Queen's bedchamber.

"Captain, Viscount Hiraga and Lady Valliere just arrived through the mirror. They claim to have fought off several- wait!"

Back upstairs, Louise, who had no idea that Henrietta had already left the Palace, rushed out of the room to go find her. She rushed out, and came face to face with a man. She squeaked in surprise, thinking she'd just nearly barreled into a servant. She only realized he had a sword when he raised it to bring it down on her head.

"Louise!" Right behind her, Saito tackled her out of the way. The blade missed any flesh, only slicing a belt loop on Saito's jeans. The two teens hit the floor, Saito on top of Louise. He rebounded in seconds, rising up with Derflinger already drawn. The mysterious man was already making another swing, and locked blades with Saito, runes shining, before he could even finish standing up, forcing him to parry the blow at a bad stature.

"Who the hell are you?" Saito grunted, metal pushing against metal. The man didn't answer.

The Musketeers rushed out of the room behind them.

"You there, freeze!" The Squad leader ordered, raising her musket. She had a clear shot of his upper torso, and he wasn't wearing any armor. Then he lessened his strength, allowing Saito to stand up fully while keeping their blades locked and putting an obstacle between him and the musket.

Louise was still on the ground, watching as her boyfriend did battle with the man. She twisted around to look at the Musketeers, and spotted two more behind the musketeers with wands drawn. "Behind you!"

The four turned around, saw the same obvious hostile intent, and fired. One of the mages dodged, the only harm coming to his cape when two musket balls tore through it. One of the musket balls sailed harmlessly in between both of them. But the last managed to clip the other in his left arm, causing him to stumble in pain onto the nearby wall. But the one who hadn't been hit reoriented himself and raised his wand.

"Stop him!" The Musketeers drew their swords and charged, trusting them more in this instant than the non-lethal methods they had. The men were obviously mages. And in spite of the common belief, Agnes had taught her soldiers that wasn't a reason to be afraid, especially if they didn't have the drop on you. A Mage wasn't faster than a bullet. If you got them on the defensive, they couldn't cast a spell. And she always insisted their swordsmanship was poorer than that of a commoner soldier, since mages saw it only as a fallback.

In seconds, there were eight swords clashing, Saito against one of the intruders, and two musketeers each against the other two. They were dressed in cloaks instead of armor, so ideally it would only take one blow.

Despite what Agnes had said, these particular foes weren't pushovers in the slightest. They were less armored, but they were more maneuverable, and they used that to avoid the pairs attempts to flank and overwhelm them. Saito was stuck in a more conventional duel. He found himself actually falling back on some of the techniques Louise's father had taught him without even realizing it. But any time he tried to get a blow in, his enemy would lock their swords again, staring the shorter teen down with a menacing smirk. And he was tiring out, faster than he expected.

"Careful, partner!" Derf sounded strained. "His sword's got some magic behind it!" The man broke the lock again and swung quickly. Saito blocked it, but his feet nearly slipped on the floor.

 _It's heavier than it looks._ He thought to himself, straining to push back despite the power of the runes aiding him.

One of the other Musketeers suddenly shouted in pain and collapsed, hand held to her face as blood seeped out between her fingers. "You bastard!" The one still facing down that enemy kept up the battle. Even two to one, the other Musketeers were having a hard time. These were not opponents to be underestimated.

Saito's opponent grew bolder as he realized the boy's unrefined fighting style, taking more aggressive and constant swings. And with each one, Saito's knees ached to block the blow. It was like a car was being swung at him.

While this was going on, Louise had gotten up and ran to the side of the hall where she was feverishly flipping through the Prayer Book for something that could help. She didn't know her Dispel magic could've helped Saito in his fight, but she knew Explosion would've hurt her allies in this fight.

She found something more grounded: a large vase decorating the hallway opposite the Queen's room. She picked it up and hurled it at the man fighting her boyfriend. He saw something coming and raised his left hand to stop it. The vase broke into sharp pieces, slicing through his gloved hands and causing him to grunt in pain as blood dripped onto the carpet.

"Louise!" Saito saw the assailants hateful stare towards his girlfriend and readjusted himself to be between her and him. The man swung again and Saito blocked, muscles screaming in protest. What the hell had this guy done to make his sword this heavy?

"I'm not feeling so hot, partner!" Derflinger's voice sounded like it was gasping out.

"Derf? What's wrong?"

"I ain't invincible! Don't let me get broken."

"What?!" Saito broke the lock and used his footsteps to avoid his opponent for several seconds, only blocking when it was absolutely necessary.

"Don't get yourself killed either!" The sword barked. "Keep Pinky and you safe!" Against Saito's best efforts, he ended up in another sword lock again.

"What a fascinating sword you have there." The mysterious man spoke for the first time. "It'll make a nice addition to my trophy room."

"No thanks, dumbass!" The sword snarked. Saito broke and tried to swipe at the man's legs, but he backstepped. They stood there across from each other, eyeing the other suspiciously. Then instead of trying to find an opening in Saito's defense, the man did something else to take the teen off the offensive: he went after Louise.

"Hey!" Saito tried to head him off. But his opponent had gotten what he wanted. He let Saito get in front of him and drive him back with a flurry of angry blows, each blow against his sword, reinforced with Earth magic, weakening the talking blade. That was how he won his battles-he let the enemy disarm themselves. And this boy was just another one of many to fall into the trap.

"Partner!" The sword the sword called out worrying. The boy paused to look at his weapon, and that's when he stroke. He reared back and swung hard. The boy blocked. Their blades met…

And the talking sword broke apart into pieces. Just as planned.

Derflinger breaking caused Saito to lose his balance. He stumbled and fell, watching the shattered remains of his sword and friend clatter to the floor in front of his face.

Then the assailant approached with sword raised to deal the killing blow.

"SAITO!" Louise screamed.

Then the pop of a musket sounded, and the man stumbled, collapsing right in front of Saito on his hands and knees. Blood leaked from his mouth as he looked up at the teen, suddenly confused by the changing tide. Then Saito noticed Agnes running down the hallway towards them. The assailant heard her pounding footsteps before turning his head just in time to see her run her sword through his back. He gasped out and collapsed, dead. Agnes paid Saito no mind as she kept moving and joined the frays her other troops were involved in.

"Saito!" Louise ran up and fell beside him. "Are you okay?"

"I...yeah…" He panted, looking at the corpse, then the broken sword pieces beneath him. "But Derf…"

Agnes' sword skill helped turn the rest of the battle. She'd jumped in to help the singular musketeer first, slicing the assassins neck open when he was too busy blocking. After that, the final intruder had to team with four opponents on all sides. He was soon splayed on the Palace floor, his blood and life ebbing out out of him. The battle was over.

The Musketeer Captain rushed to her soldier that had been wounded, but not critically. The other three tried to catch their breath.

Behind all of them, in Henrietta's bed chambers, the closet door shifted and a man stepped out-Devers. Back on the other side of the mirror, everyone else was getting the hell back to Clément before anything else showed up. They had the spy, they'd grabbed the bodies for evidence. Hell, they even got the Rhyme Dragon again; it'd come running out of the forest in human form begging them not to take Charlotte again. It was enough for now. They'd come back with more people when they could manage. Devers' only came to relay a message and retrieve the two assets he'd sent through with the intention of hitching a ride back home at the embassy or something.

The man caught one glimpse of the carnage in the hall outside and swore under his breath.

"Captain!" One of the Musketeers got Agnes' attention. She turned and saw the man too.

"M. Devers, since you are here, I assume the spy is captured?" Agnes asked.

"Yeah. Came through to check on those two-" He jabbed a thumb at Saito and Louise when he spotted them, "-and brief the Queen. We got a serious problem over there. But it looks like things are bad here too. What happened?"

"Assassins. They cut down one of my squads. Another is missing, and I fear the same fate as befallen them."

"What a fucking mess." Devers shook his head. "Is the Queen alright?"

"My Musketeers took her and her mother away as soon as I sensed trouble. They should be on their way to the coast." Agnes explained.

"That radio you got has a range of a few dozen miles. Check." The American advised her. Agnes did so, and the signal still worked.

"Is the Queen and Archduchess safe? Give her the radio."

"Agnes, are you alright?" Henrietta asked anxiously. "We just exited the city walls. We'll turn around."

"No need. I am fine, your Majesty. There are 3 dead assassins in the Palace's hallways. Unfortunately, there are some of our brave soldiers as well. We still have to verify that the entire Palace is safe. I'm here with Viscount Hiraga and Lady Vallière too, as well as Agent Devers. They helped us overpower the assassins."

"How did they get there?" Henrietta asked, confused and concerned. Devers approached Agnes and requested the radio.

"Queen Henrietta. Sorry for dropping in unannounced. There was trouble at Viscount Hiraga's estate we were involved in. We all came through the mirror."

"Are they alright?!"

"Yes, they're fine." The agent assured, glancing back. Saito was kneeled over the pieces of a sword. "Listen, you just keep heading towards that base. There's helicopters at the military headquarters here in the Capital. I'll catch a flight with them and meet you there. We have some urgent matters to discuss."

"Can I talk to her Majesty? It's important!" Louise insisted, trying to intrude.

"You'll see her in person soon enough. Save it for then." The agent refused as Agnes took her radio back.

"I'll stay and coordinate with the town guard to make sure everything is secure before I join you, your Majesty."

"I'll make sure you have a ride reserved." Devers swore. Agnes nodded in appreciation. "You need anymore hands here?"

"I have this situation under control. Take the Queen's friends and catch your flight. We are appreciative as always, M. Devers." The agent nodded.

"We'll take our leave then." He turned around. "Nice swordwork, by the way." He glanced over his shoulder.

"It's more satisfying than shooting them."

"Lady Vallière, M. Saito, we're leaving." Devers commanded. Louise was still antsy, but she recognized it was on the way to get what she wanted. But Saito didn't move. "M. Hiraga! You've gotten on everyone's nerves enough today!" Saito, still hunched over, shook his head before gathering up the fragments and following with his head still hung low.

"Saito…" Louise trailed off. After days of stress and one day of just more batshit insanity, the senior CIA agent was understandably short tempered. But he took a moment to remember and relax.

"Your talking sword?" Derflinger. It was hard to say definitely if that weapon had been sentient on the same level as a human; it had loudly rejected their interest in taking it apart. It could talk. It and Saito had both claimed it was thousands of years old, but who could really be sure. It was an anomaly of its own; they didn't know anything else like it, or at least they hadn't found one. But they knew Saito had been attached to it. "Can it be fixed?"

"I-I don't know." He sounded defeated. "No one here ever heard of a talking sword. I have no idea what made it so Derf was alive like that." There was misery in his voice. Agnes was glancing at the young man, and it wasn't hard to see some disguised sympathy. His girlfriend, too, putting a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

"Eh." Devers rubbed his face, coated with dried sweat after the day he'd just had. "Bring it with you." The agent relented. "There's weaponsmiths camped out near the coast. A few Germanian ones too. They're supposed to be good with metal. Maybe they can do something." But he really had no idea.

The work days were just going to get longer now, even if this didn't snowball into a larger war. Cover or no, those had all definitely been Gallian agents killed today. It was an attack on Tristain by another Kingdom, an attack Earth had got caught up in. Something that necessitated a response. That was ugly without even considering how Void factored into all of it.

Really long days lay ahead.

* * *

Two months of military build up in Tristain was opposed to two months of diplomatic building in Romalia. Though a general agreement was made over that meal, there were still many, many, many things to discuss. Deals that had to be struck. Connections to establish. With the need to communicate back home slowly through contemporary measures, it was slow. But they'd managed.

The first order of business had been securing land for embassies. Places for business to be conducted. Places of refuge for their citizens. Places each nation could be sure with 100% certainty they wouldn't be under scrutiny. The transaction had already been made, land already bought. Surveyors had come on another ship and drawn up the building plans quickly.

They'd also located a few religious scholars who'd be open to hosting their counterparts from Earth and sharing with them the much wider range of information they had on Halkegenian history, religion, and the more closer Elves. But there was always more work to do.

On the eve of the invasion of Albion, the consuls and their guards had taken a trip up North. They'd spent time in Aquileia, a coastal trading hub with canals extremely reminiscent of Venice. It also sat on the Romalia-Gallian border. Or rather, it sat under the shadow of the Fire Dragon Mountains, a mountain chain that ran along Southern Gallia and served mostly as the natural border between the two nations, with a bit of Gallia owned plains between it and Romalia in the Western half of the border.

As its name suggested, it was home to many of the fire dragons that were bred and used as mounts throughout the continent. Most of its wild population had been culled, though. Several foot paths had been carved through the mountains themselves to allow people to travel over land to Romalia from Gallia.

The consuls were there to start examining trade agreements. Their security was there to get a feel for things. This city represented the most direct route from Gallia to Romalia, or vice versa. If there was an opportunity to spy on Gallia from anywhere in Romalia, it was here.

But back in Romalia itself, the Embassies were crawling towards completion. Without trucks to carry in loads of supplies, it was a harder affair. Everything was being carried in by USAF CV-22s, the long range technological marvel that was the Osprey. Two had been originally been planned for permanent stationing in Halkegenia to facilitate travel among other things, but Trump had pushed for an extra three to be temporarily deployed until the building was done. The US Military had modified and made a variant that was practically unique on it's own, fitted with auxiliary fuel tanks and other modifications in a way that made the journey just doable with the condition it had to carry some fuel in the cargo hold to make the return journey. Without a tanker aircraft, it was the best they could do, but it was also an important step in increasing their ability to operate in Halkegenia where they were still very much constrained by logistics. And who was to say such a development wouldn't be useful on Earth?

Senior military leadership still went through each day with mild anxiety. The Osprey's reputation to crash was overstated, but it could still crash; any aircraft could crash. And if one went down in Gallia or even Romalia, it would cause a few heart attacks. In the event of the former, they'd already resolved that sovereignty was irrelevant. They'd drop the biggest bomb they had in theater and remove all traces of it from existence.

So, there were five Ospreys based at a temporary camp in Southern Tristain, painted with the frankly ugly seal Romalia had so graciously allowed them to use to get a free pass through Gallian air space, making nearly daily trips carrying men and supplies South. Gallia didn't object as far as they could tell, but that may have been because the tiltrotors were always fast enough to avoid any airships that might've flown Gallia's skies.

Marines, Canadian MPs, and Military Engineers had been first to arrive with the gear necessary to live until the permanent structure was up. Romalia had gracious offered to help transport some of the materials needed. Under the condition there were troops allowed to guard the supplies on the trip, Earth had accepted the good will with non-critical building supplies. Supposedly, a PFC on one of the very first ships had entertained Romalians the whole journey with the benefits porta-potties for a military on the move.

It'd been stop and start for both countries day after day. They'd unload the supplies, put it to use, and then twiddle their thumbs until another supply run came. There were no heavy machines-it was all manual labor. For such a backwards way of doing things, it was still proving remarkably successful. After 5 weeks of construction, they'd done all the digging and laid the concrete foundation for the wall and buildings. The shells of the buildings, wood and brick, were complete. They were already starting the wiring and self-contained plumbing. In another five weeks, it'd either be done or they'd be just about done moving in all the furniture.

Naturally, they'd set up antennas and transmitters ahead of time and brought in generators for them. They now had long range communications with their own people in Tristain and short range for their people throughout Romalia. That alone made everything a lot more secure.

It was night time in the city of Romalia. The city was at rest, the only people up the knights and watchmen that patrolled the streets. The Engineers were gladly sleeping under the roofs they'd put up. The Marines and MPs meant to be guarding them were either asleep in tents, or standing guard at the gate or by their supplies, weaponry or construction. It was quiet all around.

Both compounds were about half a mile from the Holy See, but still in a spot is was just visible from. So when an explosion shook one of the towers, even the Marines and MPs all that distance away could see the momentary orange flash before the sound reached them a moment later.

"Oh shit, fantasy rag heads." A Marine guarding the weapons tent joked while another on guard went to wake up the detachment commander. In the Canadian compound, one of the MPs, a senior enlisted who'd actually been one of the guards at the consulate in Tristain before the Embassies there were built, shook his head before getting the rest of the guard up.

Never a dull day in Halkegenia.

They radioed the development back North and everyone stood guard, waiting for news or word from the Romalian government; lines of communication were already up between them and the local authorities. They didn't find anything new out, but there sure was a development at the compounds.

Unknown to either countries at the time, one of the towers of the Holy See had been broken into. A holy relic was stolen, and several knights slain by mysterious assailants Those facts were slow to reach them with the local authorities scrambling there first instead of telling them. But they were quickly known by the cities' very religious population, and word spread quickly. But when words spread quickly, so did misinformation.

The guard details were soon made uneasy by large crowds gathering around the construction sites. Instantly, the tension went up as the mobs grew angry and were shouting.

"Blasphemers out of our city! Unholy thieves! Heretics!"

The guards looked at each other as their commanders urgently contacted their superiors, reporting the sudden escalation. The ones that knew Italian pulled out megaphones and tried to keep things calm.

"Do not crowd around the fence! Please disperse immediately in a peaceful fashion!"

Despite the demands, the large crowds refused to go away as some started hurling rocks and other projectiles at the consulates.

"Sarge, what the hell's going on?!" one of the guards shouted as his squad took cover behind some barricades.

"Hold your fire!" It was just rocks right now. That was common in the Middle East. It wasn't going to kill anyone yet.

What the hell had gotten these people so riled up though?

"Command still doesn't know what's going on!" the radioman reported. "They want us to avoid escalating at all costs." That didn't need any saying. No one there wanted to fire on civilians and start an international religious incident.

It was a standoff that lasted nearly half an hour, the angered mob not letting up in its heckling and the guards standing their ground. Not reacting, not opening fire, just staring down the mob with professionalism. And then it all suddenly changed.

The mobs jeering turned to silence, then began screaming, fainting, and honest to God crying. The Americans and Canadians weren't sure of what to make from it. But the crowd dispersed in seconds. And when it did, they finally realized what it was that had de-escalated the situation so quickly: The Pope himself. Dressed elegantly despite the late hour, he'd just walked down the street surrounded by papal guards and sent all his followers away with only a few words.

"I must apologize on behalf of the Church." He stepped up to the fence at the Canadian compound. "That must have been a difficult experience."

"It happens more often on Earth." The leader of the detail said, trying to be as polite as possible to this man far younger than him, but infinitely more influential. "Do you mind if I ask what that was all about?" The Pope nodded.

"Yes, a terrible calamity has struck Romalia. Thieves attacked one of the most sacred reliquaries of our Church and stole one of our Founder's relics." the pontiff explained wearily, "It seems that lies blaming your people spread quickly amongst our faithful before I could intervene."

The sergeant nodded in understanding.

"Thank you, your Eminence, for the information. And for helping resolve it. I'll report this to the consul and my superiors immediately. We hope you and your followers are okay."

"Your concern is appreciated. Please do so. Such news must be relayed quickly so that we can avoid any more mishaps." The Pope walked over to the American compound and had the exact same conversation with the head of the guard there.

After that was done though, the young Pope retreated back to the Holy See, now surrounded by hundreds of alert knights. He excused himself to his private study, the knights diligently standing outside. The pontiff retrieved some parchment and quill and began to write an urgent letter.

A dragon courier had already let him know of the attacks in Tristain on the Void Mage and Queen Henrietta, current owner of the Water Ring and Wind Ring respectively. Just the previous evening, he'd gotten word from Gallia of an explosion at the Palace of Versailles the Monarch was being silent about. And now the Founder's Mirror had been stolen from the Holy See.

Curiously, they had not made an attempt for the Fire Ring adorning Vittorio's finger. These thieves were bold, but had their apparent limits. But their intentions were clear: they, whoever they were, were attempting to gather the four Founder's Relics and corresponding Rings, and that was cause for concern. The ramifications were beyond what anyone, even the thieves, could comprehend.

They had to act against this threat now.

The Pope wrote a short and concise letter to Julio, summoning the young man back to Romalia. And ordering him to bring the Tristain Void Mage and her Familiar.

 **Author's endnote: sorry again about the turbo long delay… reality torn into my free time and energy.**

 **So things got more complicated eh?**


	24. Chapter 22: The Great Leap

**Authors' notes: Super big apology to all our readers. Real life really tore into us with 40 hour workweeks and a master thesis to research and write. On top of that, other projects such as a Salamanders army for Warhammer 40k just made things worse. So yeah, back in action here in Tristain. Hope you guys and gals enjoy this chapter.**

 **The Great Leap**

There were four nations and nearly 20 people on this video call. At Clément-sur-Mer, the density was the greatest. Henrietta, her mother, Marshal du Poitier, and Admiral de Boeck sat or stood at the head of the table. The Queen had arrived to her troops and subjects prepared to meet her magnificently, festivities that were quickly brushed aside. Rumors were running rampant in her ranks commoner and noble, but she'd address that later.

Also in the room was Colonel Hamilton, Colonel Roberts, Agent Turner, leader of the MI6 detachment, and Agent Harper. Devers was somewhere downstairs making sure everything was clean and secure, including their new prisoner.

In the Prime Minister's office in Ottawa, Trudeau sat with Ministers Sajjan and Goodale flanking him while in the Oval Office, Trump was with SecDef Mattis and CIA Director Haspel.

Tension and stress filled the air as they discussed about the latest events and their possibly huge ramifications. Devers had let Halkegenia HQ know about the full scale of the problem before getting a ride back, and they'd sent word back home as well as put all the men and women in the region on alert. Before the agent had even got back to the coast, people were converging to discuss the matter. Quick greetings had already been exchanged and now all parties were waiting for the briefing to start.

This just had to happen right before the great leap into Albion.

Agent Harper was handing out files to those present in the conference room while aides did the same thing in Ottawa and Washington DC.

As he finished, Devers returned into the room.

"I've secured the only Gallian to have survived the attack. We took the bodies of the rest in case they can be used as evidence against Gallia." he reported.

"Excellent work Agent Devers," Trump said over the call, "So what happened?"

Devers and Harper nodded.

"Two near simultaneous attacks here in Tristain. One on a Void Mage at Des Ornières, and the other on her Majesty at the capital. We've also received reports that Lutèce, the Gallian capital had been attacked yesterday," Harper briefed, "However, the reports are incomplete as our agents there are still trying to make sense of what happened. King Joseph has issued a bounty for an alleged perpetrator."

"How do the events in Gallia relate to this?" Henrietta asked.

"The same person who robbed Gallia was the one at Des Ornières," Devers answered, "We detained her even though the other attackers fought us to the death. She is currently locked up here and we are waiting for Captain de Milan to arrive to assist in the interrogation. That might not be till tonight. She's the same girl that got caught spying a few months ago. The one who's dad was murdered by his brother for the throne."

Glances and slight eye movements by the people back on Earth. Henrietta's eyes flickered to the table. Of course Trump and Trudeau had heard that story. Did they sympathize with the girl? Of course. But politics was politics, and a crime was a crime. They'd agreed with Henrietta's decision, and the Queen maintained she did what was right for her people.

"We honestly have no idea what's going on yet. She might've been trying to defect." Devers admitted. "But the fact is, she showed up in country at the same time as these attacks and she's being pinned as the attacker in Gallia. I don't believe in coincidences. Her and Gallia had something to do with it. This could damn well be a false flag, and we're going to find out."

"We understand," Henrietta answered, "My Musketeers will assist in this endeavour however they can. There is simply too much at stake for half-willed efforts."

"You have no idea, your Majesty." Devers agreed. "Here's the thing, and Ms. Valliere will back this up." Henrietta blinked in surprise; she hadn't seen Louise yet. Business over pleasure. After having everyone captivated with anticipation, Devers dropped the bomb. "The assassins were after Ms. Valliere's Void Magic artifacts. The ring and the book. This isn't confirmed, but I think this alleged attack in Gallia was to steal their artifacts too."

"Void? That same thing that blew up Albion's ship?"

"Yes, Mr. President. An ancient form of powerful magic that hardly anyone knows about. A subject of great political, religious, military, and societal importance. And these bastards tried to steal items related to it."

"But why?" Henrietta asked, standing up. "Void Magic can only be used by those gifted with it, and even then only by using artifacts belonging to that Kingdom. Tristain's Founder Objects would be of no use to anyone but a Tristainian Void Mage." She looked down at her finger. Albion's Air Ring. Was that why she'd been attacked? It made even less sense.

"Would it possible to override this limitation?" Trudeau asked, "Perhaps the attackers found a way to be able to use these items without being a Void Mage?"

"Or," The American Director of the CIA suggested, "What if they did it to undermine the authority of the kingdoms? Take away their legitimacy?"

"Void is still a mystery. Maybe it would be possible," Devers said, "And we don't have enough evidence to validate that theory, Director."

"The Founder's relics are all sacred and held with great reverence by his descendants. We are entrusted to guard them with our lives," Henrietta added, "It would be a terrible blow to any of His heirs to lose them, almost on the same level as being unable to cast magic. I can see why she'd steal Gallia's-to undermine her uncle." She said thoughtfully. "But why steal ours?"

"Revenge, most likely," du Poitier said. "I imagine word about our Void Mage is widespread by now. Ms. d'Orléans has no reason to love us after we denied her aid. I can't think of a better way to humble Tristain at this moment in time."

"So this was all a rogue agent?" Trump asked. "A single attack?"

"Maybe, but I don't buy it." Devers contested. "There were attackers in the Capital. There were additional assassins in the woods at the Void Mage's location. A rogue element doesn't have support like that. And there's no dissident groups in Gallia, we've been looking. Her family name isn't worth much anymore. There's more to this than we can figure out right now, and we won't know until we question that girl."

"If it's just her, that's good. But if there's a chance Gallia as a whole is really behind this, we got to be ready. We got to plan." Harper stated.

"I agree." Henrietta nodded. "I'll reach out to our lords on the Gallian border immediately. Our borders must be properly guarded. All the other lords in the realm will have to be notified as well."

"Good call your Highness," Trump replied, "I'll make sure my people are ready too."

"The Canadian Forces stand by as vigilant as ever." Trudeau affirmed.

"Thank you, M. Trump, M. Trudeau," Henrietta said, "But while I have full faith in your support, I will have to notify the Church of this as well. They may understand why they sought the Void items." After a moment, Trudeau responded.

"That is understandable. I'm sure all sides can agree to work together when it comes to sensitive matter like this." He was clearing the air when it was obvious that no one from Earth was very fond of the idea. The enemy of your enemy wasn't your friend when they were your competitors too.

"We should meet again this time tomorrow, to discuss what our intelligence services gather." Mattis proposed. "And if this is as big an issue as we believe, we need to start preparing immediately."

"You're right. In fact, go start right now." Trump ordered. "If they want to invade, I want the same response we got last time."

"Sajjan." Trudeau said, a shorthand for 'Make sure nothing too crazy happens'. The Defense Minister nodded and left at the same time Mattis exited the call.

"M. Devers, the rest is up to you for now. Keep making your country proud."

"Of course sir. I guarantee whatever the hell is going on in this world, I'll find it." The agent assured. The meeting started to come to an end, everyone going back to their jobs and to deal with the immediate situation. Henrietta stayed though, requesting a word with the American and Canadian leaders and then waiting for everyone else to leave.

"I desire to ask you both a question." She explained. "I understand your ways of securing peace, even if I do not agree with them." Obviously, she'd hold the whole debacle with Saito and Louise over their heads forever. "I've never felt a reason yet to question them." Frightening as they may be, they were undoubtedly effective. "I understand your reasoning." America and Canada wanted peace and stability, and all this was how they intended to get it. It wasn't exactly profitable on the whole, and there were losses to balance gains. But it was a set up they were pleased with.

"Yes?"

"Are you sure that these methods won't antagonize Gallia? Or any other nation for that matter?" The amount of things America and Canada had gotten away with doing, the mobility and leeway they had here in Tristain-it was extremely unusual. Henrietta had allowed it, and her nation had begrudgingly followed suit until the recent events made it more acceptable.

"We are confident that anyone reasonable will understand our goals, your Majesty," Trudeau replied, "We are merely seeking a winning solution for everyone that is willing to work and cooperate with us." There was a special emphasis on those last words.

"It's not our fault if some people are crazy and can't understand good will when they see it." Trump added dryly.

"Your world is marvelous. I really do think there is a lot Tristain can learn from it. But not every other ruler in Halkegenia shares my belief in mutual prosperity between our worlds. I've started to realize in these last few months just how different my people and myself have become. But the world that affects my kingdom lies beyond just your three, and it hasn't changed.

Both Earth leaders nodded, understanding where she was coming from.

"Your armies, spies, and citizens have had a lot of freedom in my Kingdom recently." At the start, it had been only guarding their people. Then it had been helping watch the border. Their spies had worked only in conjunction with Tristain's authorities, not independently. Since the invasion, a lot of that had changed. Arguably, it had changed the moment they went after Saito and Louise.

Now their spies worked with much more impunity, often on their own even. Their troops had been the sole defenders and helpers of part of her kingdom, able to go where they pleased. Even now, the lords on the border were dependent on their armies for help in case of an invasion. With that horrible event and its aftermath getting further and further in the past, there was more reflecting on aspects like that. She wasn't ungrateful, but she was rightfully concerned.

And she knew her allies had to have spies in Gallia. And there was only one place they could practically be operating from: within her borders. She had to wonder how long they'd been there? At a time like this, she wouldn't hurry to demand they cease doing so. She was in a precarious position where she was being subverted, but still in a way that benefitted her.

It must've been a common occurrence on Earth.

"I just want to be sure the boundaries we established regarding sovereignty in Ottawa and beyond are still being respected."

"We have no intentions of violating them," Trudeau reassured while Trump nodded in agreement. "I understand that standards may have slipped with the unfortunate events of last year. I'll have my people review things and make sure everything is in compliance."

"Thank you, M. Trudeau." She had said her part and she believed they would consider it. "That will be all for today. I must go attend to my friends and subjects now." The call ended. Free of any scrutiny, Henrietta sighed, rose from the chair, and headed out to go find Louise and Saito.

* * *

Somehow, they'd made her fall asleep not long after getting her on their helicopter. She'd awoken in a cell different from the one beneath the Royal Palace, but no less dreary, without any idea what time of day it was. She hadn't been there long though before the door was opened and men with their faces hidden dragged her out.

Charlotte found herself once more bound to a chair and table, this time in the outworlders' bastion. She had seen very little of it, her glasses having been confiscated as she was led to the interrogation room. Once there, her guards returned her glasses, revealing they'd put her in a strange room with one of the walls being a mirror. She had little time to contemplate it, as a very irate Agnes soon entered the room, a menacing aura surrounding her.

The Musketeer Captain's cold eyes froze the Gallian mage in place.

"We meet again Gallian spy," Agnes snarled, "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I do not have anything to do with this," she replied, "My uncle forced me to return to Tristain but I chose to warn Viscount Hiraga, not kill him."

"I find it hard to believe when you've returned with a group of assassins behind you. Were they just your bodyguards?" the Tristainian asked sarcastically, approaching the table.

"No, I did not know that my uncle would send other people as well," Tabitha replied weakly, "I never intended to harm anyone. I still just want to protect and heal my mother."

"Enough of your lies!" Agnes' hand shot out and made contact with Tabitha's face. Her glasses broke and flew off her face, but her shackled hands kept her from falling out of her chair. Her head did twist to the side though. "The Queen's life was put in danger! My own soldiers are dead by your countrymen!"

"I don't understand." Tabitha was off put by the soldier's aggression. Agnes seized the front of her shirt and pulled her face to face.

"Assassins entered the Royal Palace and struck down the Queen's guards in an attempt to kill her. I killed them, just like I will kill you when this talk is over." She shoved Charlotte back into her chair. Assassins at the Royal Palace. Her uncle had actually tried to kill another ruler?

"I didn't know! This was all my uncle and his associate's fault! They are conspiring! I never meant for this to happen! I tried to stop it!" Charlotte could feel the more raw anger coming off her interrogator. This was not like the last time. People had died. Her life was certainly forfeit. She didn't think she was afraid of the idea of death, but now, she couldn't be sure.

"Save your breath, Charlotte." Devers entered the room. "We had this conversation before. You had a chance. The Church gave you a chance. And you blew it. You don't get any pity points there." Charlotte cast her eyes down at the table. "It's over. You're done. If the Queen doesn't decide to hang you, you're going to be in prison for the rest of your life. And make no mistake; we mean it this time. If the Inquisitor wants to come around here again-" Devers pulled his pistol from his holster and pulled back the slide, ejecting a round to catch and hold up to the light. "Well, his faith isn't going to cut it."

In a strange way, this man reminded Charlotte of her uncle. His determination discarded all threats before him. She just hoped that he wasn't as ruthless as her uncle.

"But a life in prison doesn't have to be all that bad." The agent went on at the broken girl, "Help us… and we might be nice with you."

"What's the point if I'll never get out?"

"We can make things more comfortable for you," Devers said, "Convince the Queen not to kill you." He leaned across the table. "And let's not forget your friends. M. Hiraga nearly died because of your little stunt. It'd be tragic if Gallia got it right next time, wouldn't it?" Charlotte let out a shuddering breath, wondering if the agent knew what truth he was picking at.

"What do you want?" She asked.

"Answers." The American stood back up. "There is a lot here we don't understand, and we don't like it. If you really are innocent, then you have no reason to refuse. You're going to help us fill out all the blanks we have. If we like what you give us, we might be nice. But if you lie, you aren't going to stay alive for long, do you understand?"

"Yes."

"So do we have a deal?"

"Yes." What else could she really do? Even if she didn't have another chance, maybe she could still do some good. Maybe she could keep Saito safe. For whatever reason, her Uncle seemed determined to strike him down, possibly just to spite her.

"Alright, let's start with something simple then." The agent clasped his hands. "Did your uncle order you to do this?"

"He did."

"And you didn't act alone?"

"No." Charlotte answered.

"I'm not sure whether or not to believe that." Devers shook his head. "See, we got something at the border earlier today, before our little interaction." He put a piece of paper before her. The picture was blurry without her glasses, but she thought she could make it out: herself. "According to the King, you stole several artefacts from Lutèce and killed some guards before coming here. Is that true?" He asked. Had her uncle really done that? There wasn't a better way to keep her out of Gallia forever. This really had been his final move.

"No. I came straight here."

"Who were the people that came into the mansion after you?" He changed the subject.

"I do not know. My uncle has many people under his orders that I do not know about. There are whole orders in Gallia for such work. I have nothing to do with them and I have no reason to steal relics from his palace."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Why would I?" Charlotte argued, "I have no need for money and I cannot stake a claim to the throne with stolen relics."

"Why would you? Well, here's what I think. You don't have any reason to like your uncle. You probably despise him. And what better revenge than to embarrass him? Steal valuables and make him look like a fool. And then come here to Tristain. I did some fact checking. You were here for both the battle and the hostage crisis at the Academy. You know how powerful we are. So you must think: '"If I make these people angry enough, they might kill my uncle."'. And what better way to accomplish that than a false flag attack? '"The world is burning, but at least I got my revenge.'"" Devers finished.

Charlotte was left numb and speechless. But a little intrigued too. That sounded like a plausible idea. How had he conjured it so easily in his mind? What type of cunning adversaries had he dealt with before now?

"I never thought of that." She finally said. "I only wanted to protect my mother from my uncle. She's all I have left and I wanted to find a way to heal her. That's why I abandoned the mission my uncle gave me."

"And you thought some teenager would be able to do that?"

"Saito is an extraordinary man who has done the impossible many times!" Charlotte argued, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks.

"Maybe for you but for me and my people? He's just a kid who gets himself into shit way above his head." The agent's eyes narrowed. "You seem awfully fond of him. Tell me something else: Why didn't you go to Germania? You have friends there too."

"I went there to warn him. If I went to Kirche then…"

Tears appeared in her eyes.

"Then what?" Devers pressed on. "You just said you didn't have anyone following you, so you had no reason to think he was in danger." He leaned back in his chair. "I think I see it. He's not just a friend, is he?" Charlotte shook her head. She knew he was with Louise, but she couldn't have stopped that sense of admiration was building until it became impossible to ignore. She didn't dare act, but she never stopped feeling it. "Well then," Devers leaned forward again. "Even more reason to tell us what we want to know. Who knows? Maybe we'll be able to save his life again."

Charlotte sighed and nodded.

"So, I take it we'll have your complete cooperation now?"

"Yes," she muttered.

"Smart choice miss." The Agent was completely without empathy. "So, do you have any idea at all what your uncle is planning?"

"No. I never question what he asks. I just do it." Charlotte stated.

"Right. Even if it's a jump from just killing troublesome wildlife to spying and political assassination? Is that still the line you're going for?" Devers asked. "Think carefully now."

Charlotte shook her head. "I did not lie last time. He sent me to kill dangerous creatures in the hope it would be the end of me. That is the only thing he had me do before I was sent to the Academy."

"So if I'm getting my years right, you enrolled about the same time Henrietta started taking a more active role in managing her kingdom. Do I got that right, Captain?" He asked the Musketeer captain. Agnes put a threatening hand on her sword sheath.

"Exactly."

"What a coincidence." Devers faked amazement.

"Just a coincidence." Charlotte insisted to the American.

"'Coincidence'". Agnes sneered. "Such a convenient excuse for a spy."

"I am telling the truth. My uncle sent me to Tristain simply to keep me away from his court and my mother."

"Even if it had nothing to do with the Princess, being at the Academy gives you an easy place to spy on Tristain as well as Germania. There are young nobles from both countries who gossip and brag about their families. All it takes is a quiet personality to blend in and listen from the sidelines. " Devers pointed out, "A description that fits you perfectly Miss D'Orléans."

Charlotte shook her head.

"No, I was never sent to Tristain to spy," she argued, "My uncle wanted me away from Lutèce."

"Then what about those letters? When did you start writing them?" The American demanded. Charlotte said nothing at first until the man slammed his hands on the table, startling her.

"My uncle heard from one of his associates about you being at the Academy. He wanted to know what I saw." She'd never expected a message from him to arrive. But when it did, she'd started to respond, fearful of what would happen if she didn't.

"Another spy. Who?" Agnes demanded.

"I do not know. An associate told him."

"Who are his associates, Ms. d'Orléans?" Devers demanded. "Gives us names. Give us something or you're not getting anything." Charlotte thought for a moment. There was really only one she could clearly think of: Sheffield.

"A woman called Sheffield. Maybe. She gives me his orders sometimes."

Devers and Agnes' eyes narrowed.

"What does she look like?" Agnes asked coldly.

"What does she do?" Devers hurriedly readied a pencil.

"She has purple hair." Tabitha started describing the woman and her cruelty in great detail. They were memories that stuck with her. "I'm not sure where she came from." Sheffield had always been at her Uncle's side as far as she remembered, doing his bidding even if it meant leaving for days at a time. Tabitha never understood how or why she did it. It could only be her Uncle's will, but then what was that? As she talked, describing every interaction she could think of, the American's eyes started to narrow even more, and when Charlotte finished, she found herself in a tense stare down with the older man. Why was he looking at her like that? Did he believe she was lying again?

"Captain, can I speak to you in the hallway?" When he finally broke eye contact, he addressed Agnes instead. The captain nodded.

"We'll be back later." Devers said as they exited the interrogation room, leaving Charlotte sitting there wondering what had happened now.

"Her descriptions…" Agnes said. "Don't they describe that woman who associated with Cromwell?"

"Yeah, I was thinking that too." Devers admitted. She was still fresh in the minds of the US and Canada, being so far the only person to out smart them. And now they were being told someone that sounded just like her was associated with Gallia, a nation that had started making problems with them. More than that, Charlotte's physical descriptions were dead ringers for the same amount of details that Mathilda, something who they were sure was honest, told them. "If they are the same person, then things just got a lot worse."

What better position than a spy than an assistant to the leader of a revolutionary movement? Their own intelligence gathering had pegged her as meek and just a functional extension of Cromwell. Mathilda and even the rest of the Albion Reconquista had thought the same. And it made a hell of a lot of sense if she was a spy: Albion heard they were in Tristain, the spy there sent word back to Gallia, so the king gets his niece in Tristain to start spying.

If that was true, it rewrote the entire book on what had happened over the last two years. It'd be all hands on deck. Because, if that was the case, it meant Gallia had already invaded Tristain once through indirect means. It also meant Reconquista wasn't actually dead yet.

Maybe it even meant Charlotte really WAS innocent.

"We'd have to mix things up." The CIA agent knew that if it was the case, Earth wouldn't take it sitting down. "Things are going to get really bad."

"You think she is being honest?"

"She's spilling everything she knows to us. And she was a reason too. I think she's actually into that Japanese boy." He made a lot of friends here. It wasn't hard to see why. Why not a disposed princess too, one who really had nothing else?

"I don't really care for romantic pursuits." Agnes sniffed. "If it helps us extract information from her, then that is well."

"Indeed. We'll have to get as much as we can from her. It's not every day such a fountain of information falls into your hands. But for today, I think we have enough."

"I understand Agent Devers." Agnes said seriously. " But if what the spy says is true, please let me be the one to tell the Queen. I-" She composed herself. "I'm certain your aware of the Queen's connection to the former Albion rulership?"

"Her cousin." Devers nodded solemnly but he remembered the secret relationship that they had. Agnes nodded gravely.

"For her to find out all this tragedy goes back to that bastard king would be very hard. So please, for her sake, let her have privacy if that must be the case."

"Of course." Devers nodded. "But let's actually get confirmation first. Could still be a fluke. Stranger things have happened." They both looked through the glass at Charlotte.

"If this is true… if all that spy said is true" Agnes shook her head. "That man's cruelty is legendary. I have never heard of such foulness."

The American shook his head.

"Pretty common back in my world."

Agnes' eyes widened slightly.

"But back to the topic at hand. We need to confirm this Sheffield's identity," Devers said as he pulled out a phone, "Devers here, I want a picture of Cromwell's assistant brought to me. And bring an extra pair of glasses for the spy."

Minutes later, Devers and Agnes had returned inside the interrogation room. The American was carrying a file with him as he sat down in front of Charlotte.

"Miss, I would like you to tell me if you recognize this woman?" he said as he opened the file, revealing a familiar face for the Gallian mage once she put on the new glasses. It was still blurry but the Gallian could see somewhat better.

"That is my uncle's associate." Charlotte said after only seconds, unaware her body language was being scrutinized.

Devers cleared his throat.

"Her name is Sheffield?"

"Yes." Charlotte squinted her eyes at Cromwell beside her. "Is that-"

"Thank you Miss d'Orléans," Devers interrupted as he looked at Agnes and nodded, "This will be all for today."

"That's all?" Charlotte was surprised. She'd expected these questions to go on for hours.

"That's all." Devers affirmed, standing up. They had bigger fish to fry right now. And a lot of bad news to deliver.

* * *

Agnes walked somberly through Clément-sur-Mer's installations. She could see troops from Tristain and Earth moving around her to their posts or training for the battles to come as the sun was slowly setting. She finally arrived at the ViP quarters. It was a large, grey building that was well guarded by Musketeers and Griffin Knights.

After entering, Agnes made her way to the Archduchess' quarters; the woman was staying here now too, after the incident at the Palace. The Queen would need all the support she could get from her loved ones with what truth the captain had to drop.

Agnes gently knocked on the door.

"Your Highness, it's Captain de Milan. May I enter?"

"Yes, you may."

The door opened, revealing the archduchess. She looked at Agnes curiously.

"Why are you here?" Archduchess Marianne asked.

"I have returned from an interrogation with Agent Devers. We've interrogated the Gallian spy again."

"Have you spoken to her Majesty yet about this?"

Agnes shook her head.

"No and that is why I am here," she explained, "I bear ill news."

"Very well," the Archduchess guided Agnes to a table. Both sat down.

"What news do you bring?" She was already expecting news that now Gallia's dark hand hovered over their lands.

"The spy has revealed to us many troubling information," the Musketeer captain answered, "Gallia was indeed behind the attack, but it is even worse than that." The archduchess looked alarmed. "From what she has told us, Joseph is linked to the Reconquista. One of his spies helped Cromwell carry out his monstrous deeds. They may have done even more than that. We cannot be entirely sure, but we are certain Gallia was involved now."

The archduchess' face fell.

"Than that monster is… is behind the murder of the House of Tudor…" Tristain's old allies. Her husband's own family.

"Yes, your Highness," Agnes said sadly, "Even if he did not order it, he most certainly had a hand in it. And probably the invasion of our homeland as well. Maybe even those bastards at the Academy…" She growled, forgetting her manners for a second. She recomposed herself. "I wished to speak with you first so that you may be present to support her Majesty when I will… announce this sad news."

"Thank you captain for your thoughtfulness. I shall accompany you to meet with her Majesty."

Both women stood up and exited the Archduchess' quarters. There was not a single word spoken between them as they walked towards the Queen's quarters.

The Archduchess gently knocked on the door.

"Yes?" Henrietta asked.

"It's your mother," she said softly, "I am with Captain de Milan. May we enter?"

The door opened, revealing a perplexed Henrietta.

"Greetings Captain. I did not expect you to be here with Mother."

"Your Majesty, I requested that her Highness be here with me," Agnes replied gravely.

"But what is happening?"

"May we enter?" the archduchess asked. Henrietta wordlessly gestured for her mother and most trusted guard to come into her quarters.

"Please sit down your Majesty. I'm afraid that I am the bearer of distressing news," the captain said as Henrietta's face fell seriously. "I've interrogated the Gallian spy. She has revealed to us many things. Many of them unpleasant."

"I see...So is it true?" Henrietta demanded. "Does King Joseph of Gallia seek to kill me?"

But Agnes shook her head.

"While that may be true, it is not the worst thing we uncovered. What the spy revealed is far more nefarious and tragic. King Joseph is a fouler man than we thought imaginable. He may have sponsored Reconquista and the death of the House of Tudor."

Shock appeared on Henrietta's face as her eyes began to tear up slowly.

"How is this possible?" she asked, "How could he do this?"

"He has an accomplice by the name of Sheffield, who does his bidding and orders his spies and agents around. She posed as Cromwell's assistant and helped him carry out his terrible acts."

Henrietta's eyes widened as she remembered one of the briefings she had had with Earth.

"The woman who escaped from our allies?"

"It would seem so."

Henrietta was silent as her mind processed the information. She had expected the news that Gallia had set its sights on her Kingdom this time. She had mentally prepared herself for getting a full confirmation. She had started to plan how she would respond to such a large threat.

But she hadn't expected this: Something even deeper. Something that went beyond endangering her kingdom and wounded her personally.

That meant that King Joseph was behind the death of Wales and the tragedy that had befallen his beloved Albion. She felt her mother's comforting hand on her back.

"That is all that I have to tell you, your Majesty," Agnes said as she stood up, "I understand you will want privacy to consider this revelation. And I am sorry."

With that, she left her Queen and Archduchess with each other.

"But why?" Henrietta said softly as tears streaked down her cheeks, "Why did that monster stoop so low? What does he have to win from this?"

"I do not know my dear," her mother said reassuringly, "King Joseph has always been a cruel enigma."

"How can such cruelty be allowed? Does the Founder not punish the sinful?"

"The Founder works in mysterious ways but I believe that he will eventually punish those who do wrong through his faithful."

The archduchess gently cupped her daughter's chin.

"And that is why I am proud that you are my daughter. You are a strong woman who is able to rule without needless cruelty. No doubt that Brimir has chosen you to lead our people in these confusing times. Be strong. You are not alone. You have me. You have subjects that love and respect you."

She was right. Henrietta did have all of that going for her. But there were some things that just couldn't be compensated for, like a first love.

* * *

A series of phones rang in various offices in Washington DC, Langley, London and Ottawa for the rest of the night and into the morning. Soon, all nation's wider intelligence and military leadership knew the situation. Not only one of their allies had been attacked twice within a short time span but it was all part of one great, inscrutable scheme: Halkegenia was embroiled in a massive conspiracy caused by one of its rulers.

The Prime Minister's Office, 10 Downing Street and the Oval Office's occupants were already discussing with their intelligence agencies and each other. It made no sense as to why the Gallian king had backed a religious uprising that wanted to topple all monarchies in the region or why he was still trying to assassinate other leaders.

There were so many questions unanswered as they tried to make sense of Joseph's decisions. Some intelligence experts believed that he was trying to soften up the other kingdoms for an eventual invasion but that theory was soon shot down. Things didn't add up. Germania and Romalia had not been attacked as far as they knew in the past few years. Gallia had gained virtually nothing from Albion's fall. If anything, they had wasted resources in a failed uprising.

Not only that… but the intervention to save Tristain from Reconquista should have shown that Earth did not mess around when their allies were threatened. The disproportionate losses to the Albion forces were well known across the courts of Halkegenia by now.

The evidence pointed to Joseph, but it was hard to be sure he wasn't the only actor. Was the mysterious Sheffield truly his assistant or another puppet master? Were there more people in the shadows they hadn't noticed yet? Modern intelligence was thorough, but this was still a world with different rules.

And if the situation couldn't get any more convoluted, only another day later Earth heard about the attack in Romalia and the near storming of their Embassies by angry locals. These 'Holy Artifacts' were assumed to be Void Magic items by the CIA, CSIS and MI-6. Someone in the shadows was clearly trying to play games with Halkegenia. Seeking some terrifying power no one could understand.

How did it all connect? What was the end goal?

But the Gallian King, or whoever they were, was stepping on more than just the Blessed Realms and the Papacy's toes. There were two giants just a day away, and they'd crossed them without realizing it. Earth was obsessed with maintaining security in the other world, and their most dangerous workers were obsessed with finding out more about Void before this had even happened. Now, they were even more determined. All efforts were shifting. Void wasn't just a curiosity they were pursuing in their spare time. Now, it was objective #1.

Whoever it was, they could try with their games. Earth could play them better.

And in the days that followed, Henrietta tried to pen what might have been the most difficult letter of her life to the Church, explaining everything and asking for their wisdom and support on the matter. Earth knew what she was doing, and in light of everything, they didn't begret her. They trusted the Church no more than they did when Julio tried to perform a kidnapping under their noses, but Gallia and Joseph's madness were a bigger threat to them. Their unlikely cooperation with the Holy See might just evolve into something greater to meet this new challenge. Hopefully.

* * *

Tomorrow, the invasion began. The anticipation and excitement had given way to quiet and tense contemplation among the men and officers. But others refused to stay still. Be it physical or weapons training, the men waiting to embark for the invasion of Albion did what they could to prepare themselves for the battles that lay ahead.

"Watch your step Saito!" Guiche shouted as he swung his training sword at his friend, "You almost tripped on your foot there!"

"Oh, thanks man!" Saito replied as he caught his breath.

"Do you need to rest?" Guiche asked, still seemingly ready for another spar.

"Yeah, I think I could use some water." Saito didn't have the same level of endurance.

The two teenagers headed to a nearby spot where they had left the rest of their belongings.

"You seem to be improving Saito." Guiche said as they both sat down, "Still have a long way to catch up to me, but we shall make you an Undine Knight yet!"

Saito chuckled lightly, wiping sweat off his brow. First his training with Louise's father and now Guiche. Maybe one day he wouldn't need the runes at all.

"Yeah, I'm not the one getting training from Army instructors. So how was it?"

Guiche leaned and let out a sigh.

"It was demanding. I can understand why our allies have such excellent soldiers."

"Did they have you run early in the morning?" Saito asked as he remembered the various war movies he watched. "Do a lot of pushups?"

"That's only the start of it," Guiche answered, "There was a lot of physical efforts before we had classes. We had very little to eat and rest between them."

"Malicorne must not have liked that," Saito reminisced as Guiche laughed.

"He's learnt to eat very quickly though he was always very fast at eating. At least the food is filling!"

"What about those classes you've had with the rest of the Knights? What were they about?"

Guiche raised a hand and began listing them.

"We've had basic logistics, leadership, tactics but also proper conduit in times of war and hearts and minds. The last two were not subjects we expected to learn, I must admit. Our instructors were very demanding during all these classes."

"Oh?"

"Yes, they drilled into us the importance of properly treating our defeated adversaries and how befriending a defeated people will help us win faster," Guiche explained, "Many of us were skeptical at first but we can understand why your world holds these ideas so highly."

"Were the instructors harsh?"

"Their harshness was their kindness," Guiche answered as he drank another sip of water, "Many of us did not like how demanding they were until we were confronted with our first combat exercise against a determined OPFOR."

"OPFOR?"

"Our instructors had set up a small scenario for us where we had to secure a village and hold it for 24 hours until reinforcements could arrive. The OPFOR was our simulated enemy from whom we had to seize the village from. Our instructors." Guiche explained, "We had to draft a plan based off our scouts' intelligence before assaulting it. Without help."

"That must have awesome." Saito whistled but his sparring partner shook his head.

"The plan went wrong almost as soon as we started the assault. Our scouts were wrong and we fell into a trap." Guiche reminisced, "It was an absolute clusterfuck. Pardon my language."

Saito blinked as he heard the slang word.

"But why did they do that?"

"To teach-drill into our heads that no plan survives first contact with the enemy and that we must be able to think quickly in order to win or at least survive."

"What exactly happened?"

"As soon as we neared the village, we fell into an ambush as the enemy was already waiting for us. They eliminated our leaders first so we had to rely on ourselves to survive the training. It was chaotic as the scouts were utterly duped when they scouted the area. The enemy was a lot stronger than we thought and had cannons waiting for us. For men who don't fight with swords, they certainly know how to play the part."

Saito looked at him with an incredulous look.

"So what did you do?"

"We improvised a plan. We somehow managed to coordinate a retreat and assess the situation."

"How bad was it?"

"Very bad. They had us largely outnumbered and had thoroughly fortified the village with multiple lines of defense. A lot of our number was 'injured or captured' during the initial assault."

"How did you win?"

"We sent a call for reinforcements first and began probing the enemy's defenses over the next few hours for any weaknesses-"

"Ahem."

The sudden sound caught both young men's attention.

"Excuse me, Chevalier de Gramont, Viscount Hiraga, for my interruption," Julio said as he introduced himself, "I was looking for you and Lady Vallière, Viscount. May I privately speak with him immediately?"

"Of course, emissary Chésaré!" Guiche replied, "A servant of the Church like you doesn't have much time to waste."

Saito looked at the Romalian with uncertainty.

"Come viscount, let us walk together. I have already found Lady Vallière and she is awaiting for us at her quarters. She insisted on waiting for you before hearing me out."

Saito stood up, wiping sweat off his brow. The walk to Louise's quarters was uneventful with Julio trying to make small talk with a reasonably weary Saito. Something in his mind told him to keep the conversation to a strict minimum of single worded answers and head movements. He'd given the Romalian a wide berth since he noticed him at the base. Only reasonable, when their last exchange had been fists.

He felt a little better when they got to the building where him and Louise was staying. It was the same building they'd set aside for the Queen to stay in, so it was well guarded. Inside, through some dull looking hallways, Louise was waiting for them outside her and Saito's room. She looked visibly relieved to see her boyfriend as she opened the door and led them both inside.

"Emissary Chésaré," Louise greeted with a very guarded tone, "To what do we owe the honor of your presence?"

"Lady Vallière," he said as he kissed the back of her hand, "I am here on behalf of his Holiness."

"What does his Holiness want?" she asked, barely hiding a scowl. She still hadn't forgiven him for attempting to break into her quarters during the victory celebrations.

"He wishes to convene with you and Viscount Hiraga and ordered me to deliver his summons to you and the viscount," Julio answered smoothly, "He has been very insistent and wishes to inform that it is an urgent meeting."

"May we see his summon?" Louise asked nervously. She watched as Julio produced a letter bearing the Papal seal and handed it to her. Her hands trembled as she read it. Saito read it over her shoulder.

"You understand the urgency, Lady Vallière?"

Louise nodded glumly.

"Of course." She nodded. "We just need to grab our things."

"But of course, milady," he said as he exited the room, "I shall be await you both outside."

"Can we talk?" Saito whispered as soon as he was gone. Louise nodded before they sat down on her bed.

"Are you really to accept his request?!"

Louise glared at her boyfriend half-heartedly.

"Of course! He-he's the Pope! I-I can't refuse that! T-that would be blasphemy! Besides, it's my destiny as a Void Mage. It always was. I-I think I'm finally ready to face it." It'd been months, and her insecurities had started to ebb. She knew it was true. She'd been practicing. She thought she had a grasp on her power now.

There was a brief moment of silence.

"I don't like this at all Louise," Saito said clearly, "They're up to something and this is way too dangerous for me."

Louise sighed.

"I _can't_ refuse Saito. It's the Church. This is why I have this magic."

"But I can refuse..." Saito said. It was a weak threat, but he wasn't sure what to do. She vigorously shook her head.

"You can't! They'll force you to come or worst…" Louise argued.

"But I'm not Tristainian!"

"The Queen gave you a title, remember?"

Saito groaned.

"They'll use that to force you. They might even force her Majesty to strip you of your title! They'll do anything they can to force you to come to Romalia."

Saito started pacing. He was stuck. He didn't want to go to Romalia to meet that Pope. He certainly didn't trust that emissary not to do anything weird.

He wouldn't be surprised if the Romalian had a plan to simply kidnap him and Louise if they didn't follow him. They'd probably take Louise alive but his survival was mostly likely optional. That pretty boy probably didn't appreciate getting humiliated by Saito at the Palace.

But what the hell was he supposed to do? The Pope was telling them to come. Louise wanted to go. Julio was right out the door to probably make both of them come.

An idea ran through his head when he looked out the window.

"Yeah...you're right." Saito said slowly, trying to act out his new idea even when it hadn't finished forming in his head. "We should. But won't your mom and the Queen wonder where you went?"

"Mother and her Majesty would never go against a summons from the Pope." Louise argued, guessing Saito's excuse, "It's one of the worst forms of blasphemy."

The Japanese teen cursed under his breath

"We should probably at least go tell them we're leaving. Your parents might get mad if you just disappear like that." And those words got through; there was only one thing Louise might've feared more than the Church.

"You're right," she said as she stood up, "I should at least tell them. I hope the Emissary will allow it."

"I'm sure." Saito really wasn't. "But I'll stay and get our things ready and make sure the rest is safe." With his house ruined, Saito and Louise had just ended up bunking in the same building with Henrietta and her officials, bringing whatever they could salvage. Obviously they weren't going to be able to take it with them.

"You want me to go with the Emissary alone?!" Louise asked, and Saito blanched. Of course he didn't. Then what…

A knock sounded at the door.

"Who is it?"

"Your mother, Louise."

"Enter mother," the mage said. The door opened slowly, revealing Karin de La Vallière, dressed in her ornate uniform. The woman cleared her throat.

"Good day Viscount Hiraga," she greeted.

"Good day Duchess Vallière."

"Why are you here mother?" Louise asked curiously. The duchess glanced outside. Julio was still standing there, looking-or trying to look-inconspicuous.

"I noticed you had...company." She said lowly, glancing back at the hallway. Louise gasped while Saito's teeth clenched.

That damn Emissary had probably heard everything they were saying to each other.

"Was he…"

The duchess shook her head.

"He was nearby," she whispered, "Some of our allies noticed his presence and tipped me off."

Louise blew a sigh of relief.

"Mother," she whispered, "I have been summoned by Pope Vittorio to Romalia."

Her mother's eyes narrowed as Louise handed her the summons.

"It's urgent… just as I feared. I shall accompany you to Romalia," she said, barely hiding her irritation, "What will you do my daughter?"

"I wish to see her Majesty before leaving. She must know of this." Louise said calmly, "Refusing his summons would be blasphemy. But mother."

"Yes?"

"You need not accompany me," Louise answered firmly, "Her Majesty needs you here."

Karin shook her head.

"I do not trust that Emissary and the Viscount is unarmed. I will accompany you."

"This is _my_ destiny, Mother."

"What?" the Duchess asked flatly.

"I am Tristain's Void Mage," Louise argued, "This is how I'll defend Tristain and serve the Founder. This is what I've been preparing for, isn't it?" The Duchess' nostrils flared for a moment. She was conflicted. Her and her husband had been trying to prepare her for such a monumental role in Tristain and Halkegenia. But to see that day coming so soon…

Louise was standing confident, much like the duchess had during her younger days as a chevalier in service to Princess Marianne.

"I see…" She and her husband were holding on a lot longer than some parents did, the last few months especially. Tremulous months that had seen a lot of changes in their family. Éléonore had begun work with Earth's scientists, with results slowly pouring in. Cattelya had gotten significantly healthier, gradually enjoying more and more life. But it was her youngest who's changes were the greatest: Louise's powers finally began to manifest properly. She'd attained a rank and role no one could've imagined she was capable of.

It all seemed to be happening so fast.

"Are you certain of this Louise?" she finally asked, "Romalia is far from Tristain, beyond Gallia. You will truly be alone for the first time. Are you sure you're ready?"

"I do." Louise said resolutely. "But there is one last thing I want to do. I want to say goodbye to the Queen." Louise was asking her mother for one last thing. One last bit of help. Her mother nodded in understanding and turned around.

"Emissary." Duchess Valliere walked back out into the hallway. "My daughter will be saying goodbye to the Queen before she leaves. I'm sure that will not be an issue?"

"Of course not." Julio was placating.

"You should inform her of the Pope's summons personally. I'm sure you understand Tristain's Void Mage departing to Romalia will have repercussions on our mission to pacify Albion ?" the duchess remarked coldly.

"Ah...of course it would. Yes. I must apologize on behalf on his Eminence," Julio replied diplomatically, "But he wished to see her. It is an emergency that threatens the Blessed Realms."

"More than the instability in Albion?" Duchess Vallière asked skeptically.

"This emergency is one beyond measure. One that can bring untold suffering to Halkeginia if left unchecked."

"I see."

"Lady Vallière coming to Romalia would be a very welcome one," Julio insisted, "I can already give her my thanks for accepting."

"Uh, hey." Saito tried to interject. "If it's alright, I need to go make a phone call and tell my brother I'm leaving too."

"Of course." Julio's facade did not drop for a moment. Neither Tristainians were really sure if they were annoying the Emissary, but he wasn't stopping them yet. "But we must hurry." He showed a shred of impatience for the first time. "Viscount, we will wait in front of this building for you. I trust you won't be long."

Saito had his chance.

"Hopefully no one else is using the phone. I'll try and be quick. Louise, please give the Queen my regards. And tell her I said thanks for letting us stay here with her." Saito started inching towards the door, stopping in front of Louise's mother on the way. Her eyes narrowed… almost as if she had an inkling of what he wanted to do. "I'll keep Louise safe while we're down there."

He was answered by a subtle nod. He had his excuse. Now he just had to make the most of it. As soon as he was out of Julio's line of sight, he broke into a run.

* * *

Saito didn't know the layout of this base front to back, but he didn't need too. He could see the building he was looking for just by its height and the fixtures on the roof. The building where all the spies worked from. He got a few curious glances as he ran through the streets, but no one stopped him. It took him a few minutes and his chest was burning, but he made it.

Unlike the last time he'd been here, there were masked guards outside the main door. Extra security when the base was overloaded with foreigners. They saw Saito running towards them and obviously took it as suspicious. "Hey! What are you doing?!" One raised his weapon at him. Saito wisely stopped short.

"I need-" He hunched over, heaving. A sprinter, Saito wasn't. "I need to speak to Agent Devers."

The guards looked at him suspiciously.

"Listen kid, Agent Devers doesn't have time for visitors right now ok?"

Saito shook his head frantically.

"Nonono, I have information for him, about the Church," he stammered, "I promised that I'd see him if I got information about them."

The guard narrowed his eyes while he muttered something into his headset.

"Wait a minute kid. I'll talk with the bosses upstairs."

He turned and started talking into his headset, saying stuff Saito couldn't hear. The other guard kept his eyes on him the whole time.

"Alright." The first guard turned around. "Take your coat off." Saito hesitated. "Now!" The guard barked impatiently. Saito hurriedly pulled his coat off, shivering from the cold. The guard took it from his hands, shoved it over his head, and got behind him to start pushing him forward. Saito couldn't see, but he let the man guide him. The temperature changed and Saito thought he was indoors. "Yeah, here he is." Saito heard the man speak again. He let go and someone else took his place, pushing him through a building he couldn't see.

He tried not to listen or speculate what was around him too much. He was too anxious, wondering if he had enough time. The person pushing him stopped to reach around him and open a door before pushing him through.

"-and because...What the fuck is he doing here?!" The coat was pulled off of Saito's head. He was standing in what looked like a conference room, filled with other men dressed in combat gear and carrying guns. And now they were all looking at him. Saito immediately grew nervous, but he knew his time was limited.

"Said he had something you just had to hear about the Church." The woman who'd guided him in explained. Saito seized on that to start talking.

"Agent Devers." Saito spotted the man near the back of the room, looking just as displeased as everyone else. "Listen, it's about Julio." All the eyes boring into him became more intense.

"Go on," Devers said seriously, his tone changing.

"He wants me and Louise to come to Romalia with him," Saito answered quickly. "He says the Pope really wants to see us and we need to leave. Now and without telling anyone. But we convinced him to let Louise tell the Queen goodbye."

"Sneaky fucker." Someone commented to someone else. Everyone else's eyes were narrowing.

"Carry on the briefing." Devers ordered Harper before making his way around the table to where Saito was. "C'mon!" He shoved the coat back over Saito's head and pushed him out of the room. Saito let himself be steered around again.

"Louise's mom is with her, so I'm pretty sure she's safe." Saito talked through the fabric. "I'm supposed to be calling my brother and then meeting them in front of the building we're staying in. I don't know how long they'll be talking to the Queen."

"Hold them up." Devers snapped his finger at someone Saito couldn't see. He kept getting steered till he felt his shoulder bump into what seemed to be a door frame. Devers took his arms off Saito's shoulders and the teen thought he sensed the man walking around and past him, although he still couldn't see.

"Aren't you going to stop them?" Saito asked.

"No." Devers stated. Saito pulled the coat off his head and realized he was in an office. There was a desk with a computer and a file cabinet. Devers was behind the desk, rooting around in one of the drawers.

"But you said you were going to keep me and Louise safe from the Church!" Saito protested, "Can't you just… I dunno… make us disappear or something."

"Did I tell you you could take that coat off?" Devers said dangerously. Saito forgot his courage and put it back over his head.

"For the record, we agreed that if you gave us info we could use, we'd keep you safe. You haven't provided anything yet. Despite that, I'm holding up my end of the deal in good faith, M. Hiraga. You have to understand that protecting you is one thing, but I also have to protect an entire country called the United States while M. Harper has to protect Canada."

"I don't get it."

"Suppose you 'mysteriously' disappear tomorrow? Church's gonna start poking around, wondering what's going on. We're good alright but suppose they get suspicious of us? Think they'll let it go?"

Saito shook his head.

"I don't think so."

"Exactly kid, that Pope'll start stirring up shit against us behind closed doors."

"But the Queen…"

Devers cut Saito off.

"The Queen is also a very devout person in a land that is very pious. Kid, ever read about the history of Christianity?"

Saito shook his head.

"Europe went to war for almost 200 years because of debates on Christianity gone too far. This stuff runs deeper than you know. You can't just expect them to turn on a dime because you happened to be friends with them. If push comes to shove, they will not break with the Church to save you."

Saito was mute. Devers got back to the original subject.

"We're not going to drop everything on your behalf. You are NOT the center of our universe. We'll help you when it benefits us. Here, take this." Saito felt something get put into his hand. "That's a cell phone. We set up a local tower in Romalia. It's pretty patchy, and it doesn't work much outside their capital city, but it's better than nothing. The guy heading things down there is in the contacts. You aren't in any actual danger yet either. Pope just wants to chat with you and your girlfriend. You're not scared of that, are you?" Saito wasn't scared of that as much as he was scared of leaving Tristain, the place that had become his second home.

"And you want me to tell you what he says?" Saito guessed. The reality was sinking in that he might have to go after all.

"Exactly. There's a camera on the phone too. You see anything interesting, you let us know."

"Like weapons, armies?"

"We got that covered," Devers shook his head, "No, you're going to tell us whatever he says about Void."

Devers suddenly pulled the coat off Saito's head again and got right in his face. "Now listen to me." He pointed to his face, only inches away from Saito's. "Listen very, fucking, carefully. You are not a spy. You are not a soldier. You aren't a prophet, messiah, whatever. You're not Billy Bad-Ass, you're just a kid with a lot of dumb luck, you got that?"

"Yes sir." Saito agreed flatly as the CIA agent's narrowed eyes bore into him.

"And you're going to play dumb. You're going to kiss the ground that Pope walks on. You're going to be his new best friend alright? "

"Yes sir."

"Don't go around snooping at night alright? Just listen and pay attention to every word that Pope says. Be curious and listen whenever he shows you something. And for fucks sake, don't pull out that phone unless you know you're alone." Devers paused for a second. "On second thought, be a stereotypical Japanese tourist who's having the time of his life in a new country ok? They're used to that. Take pictures of all the nice things you see alright? Act amazed. Flatter them."

"Yes sir."

"In fact, act like you hate us too. Shouldn't be too hard. Did you know Charlotte's just a few dozen feet below us?"

"What!?" Saito exclaimed, "She's here!?"

"Yeah, in a very comfortable cell."

"Can I-"

"No." The American cut him off. Saito felt his frustration rising. "Exactly." The agent grinned cruelly. "Go in with that mindset." He took Saito's coat and shoved it over his head. "And remember, our deal was mutual benefit. You give us some good info, we'll do our best to keep you safe." He spun around and started pushing him out of the office. "But if you draw any unwanted attention to yourself, you're on your own. Understand?"

Saito glared at the agent under his coat.

"I understand," he said with clenched teeth.

"Good. Got any questions?"

"No Agent Devers."

Devers nodded.

"Be careful kid, I don't want you burning on a pyre either," he said in a surprisingly warm tone.

"Are we going to be alright?" Saito asked. If anyone here knew how bad the Church really was, it had to be the agents.

"In all honesty kid, you're going to have to watch yourself. They'll know you're from Earth. They'll know you're on good terms with us. "

"So I need to act convincing."

"Exactly. Just tell them that you're mad at us for tossing your friend in jail," Devers said casually, "The best lies are built on a truth. Who knows, maybe they'll actually do something about the poor girl."

"So, wait, you actually feel sorry for her?" Saito was getting mixed signals.

"It's a good sob story kid but we can't save her and her mother without pissing off her shitheaded uncle and starting another war over here. And Queen Henrietta won't stand for it. She's the one friend of yours who can do you worse than us, so you should consider that." Devers pointed out coldly, "But if the Church does it, hey, no harm to us, and a little happy news for Charlotte."

Saito's thoughts and emotions were getting jerked every which way, but he tried to stay focused on the present situation: that him and Louise were about to be more or less kidnapped and taken to Romalia and nothing he could do right now would stop it. "I'll keep all of that in mind when I meet him."

"Good. Don't fuck this up kid. You ain't got a few nation's on your shoulders, but you got family and friends. Even some you don't know about." Saito didn't know what he meant, but he didn't have much time to ask. He had business to attend to. And as he walked back, he tried to steady his nerves. He'd fought a rock golem. Count Mott. Reconquista soldiers and assassins. He was not that weak. He was strong in his own way. It wasn't the first time he'd gone into something unfamiliar scared but determined. He could do it again. He would do it again.

Whatever happened now with the Church, Saito was sure he and Louise would survive it.

* * *

Only a few generations ago, Albion had been famous for its archers. An Albion longbow used to be the most fearsome handheld weapon on the continent. Even a Mage would be weary as going into battle if a line of Albion archers stood across from them.

But gunpowder had slowly started to replace the craft. It was far deadlier and easier to levy arquebusiers and, now, musketeers. It was an art that had almost fallen out of use in the White Country, being just that now: an art, practiced by those with the time and money to do so.

'Pish-posh to that!', was Count Lindonvale's opinion on that matter. It was still a valid military skill meant to be passed down to each generation. His father had taught him just as his grandfather had taught him, and the count had taught his sons. Now that they had sadly perished, he fully intended to be the one that taught his grandsons too once they grew older.

His and other family's decision to preserve this skill was proving useful in Albion's darkest hours. The Holy Army and Navy had been destroyed. Cromwell had seemingly perished and the leaderless country had once more plunged into civil strife. But he had not been quick to imitate wolves fighting over the corpse of cattle. Men like himself, men with virtue and love for their island, had gathered in Londinium to organize, and bring peace back to their Holy Republic.

And to fight, they needed a proper army and navy. To have those, they needed weapons. But that was far from a simple task. They had Londinium, and all the weapon forges it possessed. But they lacked the materials. You could not forge steel swords without coal and iron. You could not create gunpowder without sulfur. Ships were useless without Windstones to power them. They possessed the center of Albion, but not the country's mines, and they had little hope of getting them without force. They had swords, pikes, and horses in small numbers, but it wasn't enough.

It was in these dire straits that Albion called upon its heritage. They had trees from which to carve bows and arrow shafts. In the farms directly outside Londinium, they had all manner of cattle: cows, sheep, and chickens. Sinew to complete their bows, feathers to balance their arrows, and bones were filed into arrow tips. All while the rest of the animal fed Albion and Brimir's faithful protectors.

It wasn't much, but the ability to field a thousand archers in these desperate times was still fortunate. Count Lindonvale hoped the 500 he'd brought with him today wouldn't perish. The council had plans to expand, but instead they had to march half their force to the Center-North of the floating island, far out of the territory they safely held.

It was a little village right on the edge, abandoned recently like so many others as people fled violent levies and bandits.

A column of commoner swordsmen marched into the center of the village. Very quickly, they began to set themselves up in the abandoned buildings that still looked safe and began looking for anything that could be used such as clothing, food or water. That was not why they were here, but scavenging everywhere was necessary.

As for the count, he and a small retinue of guards were waiting on the edge of the village. Watching. Waiting to see if any person or thing responded to the troops in the village. But nothing came. This place truly was deserted.

"Bring them, quickly!" He called into the woods behind him. Slowly, and with great effort, levies pulled and pushed out of the treeline two wooden ballistas. Once out of the bramble and rough forest ground, they were slightly easier to move as they were directed towards the edge. A ballista was really an old weapon, far inferior to cannons. But like bows and arrows, it could still kill. Ammo was easier to craft, so right now it was the best artillery they had.

Two ballista, 500 archers, and an assortment of melee soldiers. Hopefully it would be enough for what they needed to do today.

Of the many refugees and selfless volunteers to flood into Londinium, one of the Lord-Protector's spies had been among them. Fouquet, she called herself. The Council had understandably been weary; they couldn't know for sure if she had really been in Cromwell's employ. She'd been quick to prove otherwise though. Besides being intimately familiar with Londinium, it was quickly apparent she'd been in Tristain at the time of the invasion. She knew things that had not leaked out to the commoners yet.

But what really convinced them all was what she'd brought with her: Outworlder artefacts and even orders from their soldiers. A pair of boots, of craftsmanship far above any leather worker they'd ever known, that was standard issue to each of the outworlders' men. She chalked up this feat to drunk guards and inept officers in their ranks. They were fallible like any men.

But that flew over most of their heads once they read the orders. They were clearly meant for a quartermaster, detailing a delivery of ammunition and provisions that needed to be procured for transport to this very Albion village. Supplies that were to be delivered directly after its capture.

It made sense. They were all watching the Eastern ports for Tristain and their barbarian allies. But the outworlders didn't need to concern themselves with ports, if the stories of their airships were anything to go by. They could land wherever they pleased, and then let all the heretics from the mainland come in behind them. It would be a master stroke of genius that would put Albion on the backfoot.

At least, it would've been if this spy hadn't found out about it. Maybe she was a sign the Founder still viewed them favorably.

If they could stop their airships from the ground, they wouldn't be able to. They'd know their plan was foiled and hopefully call it off. They talked with the spy. She said it was possible; the Blessed Army and Fleet had brought down several of their airships during the invasion. They could too.

Lindonvale's men were digging in, waiting for the enemy to come. And when they'd dug in, they waited. The horses whinnied and frost built on their stubble, but they stayed in place. Their patience was rewarded when strange chopping sounds filled the air.

"Lord Lindonvale! The scouts have spotted the enemy's airships! They are below the island still!" one of his aides said excitedly as he ran up to the noble. Below the island? That was good; they wouldn't see the ambush in waiting. The noble tensely stroked his beard and turned to Mathilda.

"They only carry 12 men?" The spy nodded. 12 men seemed like a petty amount, but from what he heard, one of their soldiers could match dozens of Albion soldiers, and those were nearly the exact numbers they had right now. The plan was for them to die when their airships crashed, but if they didn't, he'd brought along swordsmen for a reason.

Hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

They waited. The captains knew the plan. It was up to the men now.

Lindonvale looked into the distance to see small objects flying for the village, nearly level with the ground he stood on. Almost unbelievable something that small could be made to fly. Glimpsing through his telescope, the Albion commander saw two men controlling the strange contraptions through curved glass. They had darkened windows on the sides, no doubt shielding their passengers from harm while allowing them to see. The design was unorthodox, but it must've had some use if it had performed as well as they said.

Inside the two Blackhawks, the pilots and co-pilots looked through the FLIR system at the heat signatures gathered at the village on the edge. The pilots were CIA today, having signed out the Army birds from the 10th Mountain earlier that day. They weren't pleased, but hey.

"Sure looks like half an army." one of them said as they began to approach they approached the edge. The turned intel asset had said she'd convinced them to send half their force.

"I think they bought it alright." The whole point of this plan, besides making Mathilda seem legitimate, was to get the Council looking the other way while the actual invasion occurred. It had taken these guys days to get out here, and it'd take them days to get back. If they got back at all.

"Good. These bastards couldn't adapt if their lives depended on it." Back at Clément, Devers was running things. "Make this act convincing. And for the love of God, don't get hit. I don't want the Army sending us a bill for paint."

"On it." Fly close to the edge, but not too close, let the enemy fire, pretend to panic, and run away as fast as the birds could go. Maybe these guys would get a short term burst of satisfaction, but they'd be the fools at the end of the day.

The helicopters kept their course as the pilots pretended not seeing the Albion ambush. As soon as the enemy ballistae and archers unleashed their projectiles, the Blackhawks nimbly moved away, to the satisfaction of the Albion troops.

Well, they had already begun maneuvers when they saw the weapons being raised. But what Albion didn't know wouldn't hurt them yet.

A great cheer could be heard amongst the Albion troops as they saw the strange airships fly away while Count Lindonvale was already scribbling away on a parchment. The noble then handed his message to a courier.

"Make haste to Londinium. The spy was right about our enemies trying to invade the capital from the north! We drove them off. We'll stay a few days to ensure they do not try again."

"Yes milord!" the man said as he hurriedly rode off. The elderly count sighed. Sometimes, it seems as if the end was upon them. But then moments like this happened, and they could truly believe things would get better.

"This isn't the end." The spy warned. "They will not stop."

"No." Lindonvale admitted. "But we will still face them. They know that now."

* * *

As the winter sun slowly rose on the Tristainian coast, an armada of ships finalized their preparations, men working hard to load final provisions and doing last minute check ups on their ships. Supplies and weapons were checked one last time by crewmembers and landing troops. Prayers were quietly spoken aboard the ships as a small reassurance before the task that lay before the fighting men.

The fleet slipped out of its moorings, forming up in the skies above Tristain. The crossing began after an hour that the first ship took to the skies. As the Tristainian and Germanian ships flew to Albion, they could hear the roar of jet engines above them. It had been a common occurrence over the past few days, with more flights each day.

The common man and even noble officer had no idea what their allies were actually doing. But they had a secure feeling in their heart that it was something helpful.

It was very common knowledge that the White Country had sunk into complete chaos and disorder. There would be no true army to oppose them once they'd land. A few scattered militias and maybe a few well organized bandits against trained armies. The worst would be a few castles and fortifications that were still standing.

No, their challenge would be ensuring that order and proper authority be returned to Albion.

The armada of Tristainian and Germanian ships sailed through the skies, unopposed. The fleet commanders soon recognized the port city of Newcastle, once the Tudors' last bastion.

Smoke rose gently from the ruined city from chimneys. Though it was badly damaged, from both the Civil War and certainly their allies' hands, it was still inhabited.

The first landing ships sailed into the ruined port. The hulks of burnt-out, ruined ships and destroyed port facilities forbid any normal landing. With careful maneuvering, one Tristainian ship made for the most intact dock they could find. Sailors readed a gangplank while the Tristainian Naval Infantry on board readied themselves.

The board hit the end of the pier with a loud thud. "Disembark!" The lieutenant called. The Tristainian Naval Infantry rushed down onto the debris filled dock, their muskets ready for battle. Very soon, other ships began unloading troops at various points in the harbor.

Musket fire and fighting began echoing throughout the ruined streets of Newcastle as the allied troops began encountering bands of haphazardly assembled militiamen. Some threw themselves at the invaders with ferocity while others melted away after a few moments of fighting.

Unlike the brutal battle of Tristainia, Newcastle was a quickly resolved affair. By the end of the day, the flags of Tristainian and Germanian nobles flew over its ruined walls while resistance had all but disappeared.

They'd taken a port city. They now had a beachhead and a connection back to the mainland. But this was only the start of the invasion. The Allied Forces still had a long way to go before Albion was fully theirs.

* * *

The three of them had ridden out of Tristain on Julio's dragon, although he assured them they wouldn't make the full journey like that. The last dragon Saito had ridden on was Sylphid, and that kept his mind darting back to Charlotte. He wasn't forgetting the American's advice, but he felt unsure. How much help could he get from the Church before Earth stopped liking him? What if the Church wanted him to do something he didn't really like in return? There was uncertainty stacked against everything he wanted to do.

Right before they crossed over the border into Gallia, they'd passed a recon helicopter hovering close by. Saito felt certain it was there to see them off. And that reassured him. He may not have been a spy or a soldier to Earth, but he wasn't forgotten. They were keeping him in mind.

They'd stayed the night in a high-class inn in before re-embarking on Julio's dragon the next morning. It was an uneasy stay with the recent events in Louise and Saito's minds. They were convinced hordes of assassins were going to storm the place and kill them. Without a weapon, Saito felt even more concerned. He wanted to try and convince the Romalian otherwise, but Louise had shushed him about saying anything about Gallia.

This morning couldn't fast enough for the two teenagers. Julio was to fly them to a Romalian ship that was waiting for them over Gallia to take them on the rest of the journey.

The flight to the ship was uneventful. Clear skies made everything easier. Finally, the trio could see the white silhouette of a Romalian airship. Julio gracefully landed his steed on the ship's deck.

"Welcome aboard the _Aquila_!" he said, "She is one of the finest airships in the Romalian Navy, reserved to carry only the most important of guests. It even carried the Ambassadors from Earth." While Julio wow'd them, the crew was already working hard to get them sailing again. No fancy welcome. They were on a deadline.

"Th-thank you Emissary," Louise stammered out, "It is an honour to be here."

"You are welcome Lady Vallière," he said, "Would you like me to show you and the Viscount's quarters?"

"Of course, Emissary," Saito answered as Julio led them past hard working sailors, "I hope that you will find them to your liking."

He led them below decks all the while showing off the Aquila. The hallway was clean, the crew having obviously worked hard to maintain such an important vessel.

"You will that this ship is the fastest one in all Halkeginia," Julio boasted, "The finest naval architects of Romalia worked hard to design her."

"Wow," Saito said. He didn't know much about ships or planes so he took the Romalian's word for it.

"I understand you may be more used to the furnishes of the type procured by America and Canada, but I hope it will suffice." Julio was gently probing him. Saito knew it, and he saw an opportunity.

"No, it's fine. Really." Saito tried to put some edge in his voice. "I don't want to see another place from there anytime soon."

"You sound troubled, Viscount." Julio stopped, curiosity perked. "Is everything alright?"

"Well, kind of." Saito sorta lied. "I'm kind of mad at America and Canada at the moment. I have a friend that they arrested a few days ago."

"Oh?"

Louise glared at him.

"I'm telling you that she was dangerous!"

"No, she's not!"

"What exactly happened?" Julio asked, perplexed at Louise' sudden outburst.

"Our allies arrested a dangerous Gallian spy that tried to assassinate us!"

The Romalian's eyes widened. Was she referring to the attempt on their lives? He had heard nothing of Gallia being involved.

"Tabitha didn't want to kill us! She was just forced by her uncle!"

"Who is this Tabitha?" Julio asked though he had a gut feeling about who this might be.

"She's a friend of mine that's been detained by the Americans and Canadians at the Queen's demand. It's a very long story, Emissary."

Saito explained Tabitha, or Charlotte's entire tale, despite Louise's protests that it was a coverup story. How she got arrested the first time, at which point Julio realized it was indeed the girl the Inquisitor had helped, and how she'd come to Saito for help the second time and how'd it played out. The disgust and pity on Julio's face was genuine.

"This is quite troubling. To think that they would be so cruel to a desperate person. I was under the impression that they were charitable people." Julio said grimly, "I will make sure that his Eminence hears of this… affront."

In truth, Julio was certain that the Pope would have done worse in the Queen's position. He was a benevolent leader… but not a fool that let sentimentality get in the way. They would help who they could, but what needed to be done for the benefit of the Realms would be done.

Still, this was a lead in the attacks across the continent. The Pope had to know.

"Thanks, Julio. Perhaps he can help her?"

"I will see that he hears of this," Julio assured, "He may be able to discuss with the consuls."

Saito smiled and hoped that his little act was convincing enough. He didn't have to act all that much… after all, he truly was angry at Tabitha's treatment.

And Julio had bought it hook, line, and sinker. Saito didn't know it, but Julio was genuinely wondering if they could save Charlotte a second time. Opportunities to have a member of a Royal house in one's debt was never to be squandered. Especially one that had a solid claim to the throne...and had no reason to love the outworlders anymore.

"May I be allowed an indiscretion?" Julio asked the two, changing the conversation to another topic, one that intrigued him.

"Hum yes?"

"I hope this event hasn't dampered your relationship. Ms. Valliere seemed rather upset with Charlotte d'Orléans."

Louise flushed red while Saito's eyes widened in surprise.

"No, we're still really close." Saito insisted quickly, much to Louise's embarrassment, "I-erm- proposed marriage even."

"Marriage?" The Romalian leaned back a little in surprise.

"Yeah." Saito said with some embarrassment. "I was going to ask Louise to marry me after the war ended."

"It's supposed to be a surprise, you idiot!" Louise shouted, even though they were just standing in a cramped hallway.

"Well, congratulations!" Julio offered. "Perhaps the Pope himself will officiate the ceremony."

"I never even agreed to it!" Louise said in angry embarrassment.

"My apologies for my presumptuousness, Lady Vallière. As a servant of our Founder, it always pleases to hear such happiness."

He opened a door, revealing a rather luxurious suite with one large bed inside.

"These shall be your quarters for the rest of the trip."

"Wow…" Louise breathed as she looked around, "Thank you Emissary."

"I believe that sharing a bed would not be something that would bother you," Julio remarked, "Are you satisfied with these quarters, Viscount?"

"Hmm yes, it's very nice," Saito replied with a smile as he looked around the room, "I appreciate your hospitality. It's even better than the stuff I got from Earth."

"Really?" Julio asked, slightly surprised.

"It's different. Are they handmade?"

Julio nodded.

"The Aquila's accommodations were made by the finest artisans in Romalia. No expense was spared for this ship."

Saito smiled a bit.

"I see. This is different from Earth. A lot of things are made identical so anyone can them but nothing really stands out because of that," he explained, "It's quite nice."

"I'm sure the artisans would find that high praise." Julio nodded. That was twice now the Void Mage's familiar had talked dispassionately about Earth. They seemed to have seriously wronged him. It could give the Church quite the opportunity.

"I suggest you both rest." Julio advised them. "We will be traveling to see the Pope immediately after landing, and our meeting may drag on into the night."

* * *

Saito could only look in awe as he saw Romalia's capital before him but it was nothing compared to Louise. The mage held her hands together, quietly praying as their ship drew closer to the seat of the Brimiric faith and its most holy buildings in early evening.

Saito's mind was deep in thought, musing over recent events, what he saw right now and Agent Devers' words. He was about to do what they asked of him, and he had to wonder:

Could he trust Louise? She was nervous, but would she really accept him committing espionage.

"Welcome to Romalia, Lady Vallière and Viscount Hiraga," Julio declared as their airship docked in a magnificent port.

Louise was still speechless as she looked around her in pious awe.

"Thank you Emissary Chésaré. I have long wished to come to Romalia," she finally said.

"I hope that you'll enjoy your stay here then," Julio replied. Saito was silently looking at the city.

If it wasn't for his doubts about the Church and Devers' words, he was certain he'd enjoy the sights far more than he did right now.

"Viscount?"

"Hum yes?" Saito interrupted his musings.

"Romalia is a grand sight, is it not?" Julio asked, looking at the Tokyo teen intently.

"It's pretty… big. I've never seen anything like this on Earth," Saito answered, "It's impressive."

Truthfully, Saito thought that New-York and especially Tokyo were far bigger than Romalia.

"It looks bigger than Tristainia. Do you mind if I take a few pictures?" he asked.

"Of course not," Julio replied, "But we do not have much time, the Pope wishes to see you as soon as possible."

Saito nodded and snapped a few pictures with a camera he had bought before leaving. It didn't take long for a carriage to arrive for them. The carriage was surrounded by Romalian knights in full, glistening armour.

"Will it be a long ride to our meeting with his Holiness?" Saito asked. Julio shook his head.

"We have made it so that you will be able to meet his Holiness as early as possible," the Romalian replied.

"Oh good."

After a pleasant but short ride through the streets of Romalia, they arrived at a massive cathedral. Saito was almost blinded at how brilliantly white it was. He pulled out his phone to take a picture of the imposing structure.

"Hey Louise! Can you stand right there?" he asked, pointing at a spot in front of a large doorway with two guards standing on each side, "I want to take a picture of this!"

The mage fidgeted.

"This is a sacred place! Do you think that we can just do whatever frivolities we want?" she exclaimed.

Saito lowered his phone but Julio spoke up.

"Do not fret. The consuls have requested the same thing when they first arrived at the Cathedral and his Eminence has allowed them the privilege of immortalizing such an event. He has declared that any important visitor from Earth may photograph themselves before Brimir's greatest monument so that they may share its splendor with others."

Saito and Louise understood what he meant but the mage was still hesitant to take a picture.

"Thank you Emissary." Louise finally said as she stood in front of the Cathedral. Saito quickly snapped a picture.

"I'm glad you are enjoying yourselves, I must ask you to hasten," Julio warned, "His Eminence wishes to speak with both of you urgently."

Louise glared at Saito who immediately complied. The two armored guards opened the door as Julio led them inside.

"Can you tell us anything now?" Louise asked shyly, dreading his answer.

"I must apologize but his Eminence has sworn me to secrecy and only he can speak of it to you," Julio explained seriously. The cathedral was empty, with each one of their steps echoing in its vast, foreboding hall. Saito looked around. This place was as grand as the Trump Tower. Another series of steps resonated throughout the great building.

Dressed in elaborate purple robe with gold trim and flanked by two imposing guards that dwarfed him, Saito guessed that this was the Pope. Each one of the pontiff's steps was with purpose, his face serene. All Saito could focus on was how young he looked.

Louise and Julio immediately took a knee as the Pope approached them.

"Saito," she hissed quickly. He soon did the same thing.

"Please, you may rise now," Vittorio quietly said before raising a hand. His guards turned and left the room.

"I must apologize for the Viscount's lack of politeness," Louise quickly said but he waved his hand. Saito glared at her.

"There is no need to apologize, Lady Vallière. He is not from our lands and cannot always understand our customs," the Pope replied kindly, "I have already met with delegations from your world and I understand the occasional lapse in protocol." He addressed Saito.

He cleared his throat.

"Now that you are here, we may discuss why I have summoned you here at this hour," Vittorio, his voice far more serious, "Come."

He led the group to his study. Two more guards stood in front. Once more, Vittorio waved the men away before leading the group inside. There were chairs for all of them. After Louise and Saito sat down, Julio leaned over to speak into the Pope's ear.

"Your Eminence. Queen Henrietta entrusted me with a letter before we left. For your eyes only." Julio said quietly as he produced the closed scroll. Henrietta had taken him aside privately after exchanging goodbyes with Louise to give it to him. The pope nodded and took the scroll. Julio kept talking as he read its contacts, quiet enough their guests couldn't hear. He was going to mention what he learned about the daughter of King Joseph and Gallia's involvement in the attack, but quickly realized while reading over the Pope's should the letter already explained it. So he moved on to another subject.

"It may interest you to know the Void Mage and her familiar are engaged. Or intend to be." The Pope took his eyes off the parchment for a moment. He smiled and returned to reading. As Julio read along with him, he noticed a discrepancy. "The Familiar insists the late King's daughter came to warn them of the assassins. He seems hopeful the Church can prove her innocence." A pause, then a curt nod. His expression remained serene as he read the contents even if internally emotions roiled. He finished reading it and closed his eyes for a moment.

"Thank you, Julio." He said once he read them and set them off to the side. Louise was looking at the message curiously, wondering where it had come from. When he opened his eyes again, he still looked untroubled. "That was a message from the Queen. It actually relates to what I brought you here to discuss. First of all, I'd like to express my relief that you were unharmed during the attack in Tristain."

"T-thank you." Louise said, embarrassed at being shown concern by someone so mighty.

"Queen Henrietta has confided in me her concerns Gallia was involved." There was more to the letter than that, but the Pope was keeping things relevant.

"Gallia, your Eminence?" Julio asked. The Pope nodded.

"Their evilness knows no bounds..." Louise forgot herself for a moment while her boyfriend looked uncomfortable.

"Do not rush to judge." The Pope chided, humbling Louise. "Gallia was also attacked, as was here. There is undoubtedly somebody cruel and evil out there, but I would not cast the blame on an entire realm."

"Of course. Forgive me."

"That is why I brought you here. This is a matter of great urgency," he said to Louise and Saito, "One that must not be heard by the wrong people."

"We understand, your Eminence," Louise replied nervously, "Please, tell us."

"You are not the first user of Void to re-emerge." He revealed to Louise. He put a hand to his chest. "I too, am a Void Mage. And Julio is my familiar." At the Pope's words, Julio pulled off one of his uniform's gloves to reveal a set of runes. "Vindalfr." Louise gasped in amazement. Saito was repeating the name Vindalfr in his head as much as he could, trying to commit it to memory. That HAD to be news Devers wanted.

"Yes." The Pope nodded gravely. "Void is reappearing in all of the Blessed Realms, and it is not a coincidence. Something great is about to happen. The Realms and their Void Mages will have to come together to face it."

"Of course!" Louise bowed her head feverently.

"But there are those who do not wish to see this pass. You were not the only ones to be attacked. Gallia, and even the Holy See was struck." He revealed. "And now I fear that it is someone within Gallia who is responsible."

"But why?" Louise dared not badmouth another Blessed ruler in front of the pope.

"I would suspect Elves. They are the only ones who would have any reason to impair such an important time in our history. But now evidence points to Gallia being responsible. Maybe both are involved. We can not be sure now. But this still works for us. It presents an opportunity."

"Yes?"

"Originally, I wanted you to accompany Julio to Gallia under the pretense of envoys. Gallia has been less than forthcoming on the events in their country, and I wanted it investigated. But now, it presents an opportunity to investigate further. To determine whether these claims of their hand in this recent events are true or not."

"Do you mean that there might be elves controlling King Joseph?!" Louise exclaimed in shock, "That could explain why he committed such foul actions!"

"Maybe." The Pope nodded. "I will not discredit any theory right now. I am entrusting you to find out."

Saito fidgeted on the spot. He didn't want to get involved in a mission for the Church, Devers' words still echoing in his mind. Let alone a mission spying on a guy who was supposed to be insane and dangerous. Shouldn't the Church have people to do this for them? Why did he want the two of them specifically for this? Especially when someone already tried to kill them?

He also didn't have a weapon of any kind. But Gallia...Charlotte's mother was there. He hadn't forgotten her begging him to help. If they did go to Gallia, maybe he could do something. But what would the Pope say if he did? Tristain? Earth?

"Does something trouble you, Viscount?" Julio noticed Saito's expressions. Louise and the Pope looked at him expectantly, and Saito was legitimately embarrassed. He remembered Dever's advice and lied by telling the truth.

"I...Don't have a weapon to perform a mission." He admitted sheepishly. "I had a sword-" His face grew sad. "A talking sword. he was my friend. But he broke defending Louise from assassins." Louise's face flushed with slight embarrassment, but she reached out to console her boyfriend.

The Pope and his familiar shared a concerned glance. A legendary object, shattered by merely an assassin's blade? But then Vittorio smiled warmly, and Julio adopted a similar expression.

"Forgive your shame, Viscount. There can surely be none for a warrior whose blade shatters protecting the innocent."

"Right, thank you." Saito tried to get over himself quickly. He still missed Derf, but right now he had an act to play. "If I can borrow something, I swear I'll return it good as new." But the Pope shook his head.

"That won't be necessary. We have been preparing for your arrival for thousands of years, Gandalfr." Saito and Louise stared at him, obviously confused but trying to stay polite. "There was more for us to discuss, but let us see to you first and we will resume afterwards. The night is still young. Accompany me. There is something you must see."

 **Hope you enjoyed it… please drop us a review and until next time.**


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